LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

CALIFORNIA 
.       SAN  DIEGO 


c 


MASTERS   OF    MEN 


;  GO   AHEAD  —  AND   BE   GOOD.'" 


MASTERS    OF    MEN 

A   Romance   of  the 

New   Navy 


BY 

MORGAN    ROBERTSON 

Author  of  "  Spun  Yarn,"  "  Where  Angels  Fear 
to  Tread,"  etc. 


NEW   YORK 

DOUBLEDAY,    PAGE   &   CO. 
1902 


COPYRIGHT,  1901, 
BY  CUETIS  PUBLISHING  CO. 

COPYRIGHT,  1901, 
BY  DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  CO. 


Norfaool)  $regg 

J.  8.  Gushing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith 
Norwood  Mass.  U.S.A. 


To  my  Wife  —  a  good  woman 


CONTENTS 

BOOK  I 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE 

BOOK  II 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON 

BOOK   HI 


BARBARISM 


144 


BOOK    IV 
CIVILIZATION         ........    269 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


"  '  Go  ahead  —  and  be  good '"        .        .        .        Frontispiece 

FACING   PAGE 

"  He  stared  defiantly  into  her  eyes  as  she  watched  the 

men  told  off "  .         .    - 125 

"  Bilker  had  brought  his  hands  out  of  his  pockets,  and 

in  each  was  a  bright  revolver "        .        .        .         .156 

" '  Proceed  with  your  dead,  American  '"  .         .     294 


MASTERS   OF  MEN 

BOOK  I 

THE  A  aJ5   OF  STONE 
CHAPTER  I 

A  BOY  of  fifteen  was  being  vigorously  cuffed 
and  kicked  by  a  larger  boy,  and  a  black- 
haired  girl  was  speeding  toward  them  on  the 
sidewalk,  when  from  across  the  street  came 
another  boy  —  red-haired  and  freckled  —  who 
jumped  puddles  and  arrived  on  the  scene  coinci 
dent  with  the  girl. 

"  Let  my  brother  alone,  you  —  you  —  you  mean 
old  thing,"  she  cried  as,  with  flashing  eyes  and 
fingers  working  nervously,  she  confronted  the 
pair. 

"Ah,  gwan,"  answered  the  cuffer,  with  a  quick, 
comprehensive  glance  at  the  working  fingers  and 
sharp  nails ;  "  he  hit  me  wid  a  rock." 

"He  hit  me  first,"  screamed  the  victim.  He 
was  a  pink-cheeked  boy  in  knickerbockers  —  the 
type  of  boy  that  is  seldom  punished  at  home. 


2  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

"  Take  some  one  your  own  size,"  said  the  red- 
haired  boy. 

"Go  chase  yourself,  Dick  Halpin;  this  ain't 
your  funeral." 

"  Let  up  —  drop  it  —  let  him  go !  " 

"  Make  him  stop.  Oh,  please  make  him  stop," 
wailed  the  girl,  changing  front  at  the  prospect  of 
a  champion. 

There  was  a  confused  tangle  of  arms  and  legs, 
from  which  the  boy  in  knickerbockers  emerged 
and  sped  to  the  middle  of  the  street ;  then,  while 
the  girl  wrung  her  hands  anxiously,  the  whirl  of 
combat  continued  until  the  larger  boy  shot  off  at 
a  tangent,  and,  colliding  with  the  fence,  collapsed 
in  an  astonished  heap.  He  had  not  been  struck, 
nor  was  he  hurt,  but  the  strength  and  courage  of 
the  red-haired  boy  —  smaller  than  himself  —  was 
so  completely  at  variance  with  his  record,  as  to 
call,  first  for  respect,  then  analysis  and  classifica 
tion  ;  all  of  which  required  time  and  distance. 
So,  with  a  promise  to  "  square  up,"  he  arose  and 
departed,  followed  by  a  threatening  "get  out," 
from  Dick,  and  a  well-aimed  stone  from  the  boy 
in  the  street. 

Dick  Halpin,  red-haired,  slim  and  under-sized, 
had  no  standing  as  a  fighter.  Not  that  he  lacked 
courage,  or  the  quickest  of  tempers ;  it  simply  had 
not  come  to  him.  He  possessed  a  dignity — or, 
possibly,  a  lack  of  dignity  —  and  a  quiet  geniality 


THE   AGE   OF    STONE  3 

and  insistence  of  manner,  which,  with  a  certain 
readiness  of  speech,  had  always  won  him  his  point 
in  schoolboy  friction.  And  in  schoolboy  ethics 
there  was  no  legitimate  reason  for  his  interfering 
in  this  manner.  He  had  seen  the  treacherously 
thrown  "rock"  impinge  upon  the  head  of  Pig 
Jones,  had  watched  the  pursuit  and  capture,  and 
knew  that  the  punishment  was  deserved.  But  he 
had  also  seen  over  his  shoulder  the  twin  sister  of 
the  youngster. 

She  was  the  new  girl  in  the  school,  whose 
father  had  lately  settled  in  the  town  and  built 
the  largest  and  finest  house  that  it  contained. 
Unlike  her  brother,  she  had  made  no  friends  and 
few  acquaintances ;  but,  with  her  steady  dark  eyes 
she  had  taken  the  measure  of  every  boy  and  girl 
in  the  school  —  calmly  staring  them  out  of  coun 
tenance,  and  finishing  by  a  close  inspection  of 
their  clothing.  Had  it  been  less  dispassionate, 
or  had  she  been  less  of  a  mystery,  her  manner 
would  have  been  resented ;  but,  as  it  was,  girls 
turned  up  their  noses  only  behind  her  back,  and 
the  boys  —  all  but  Pig  Jones,  in  whose  soul  was 
neither  poetry  nor  reverence  —  placed  her  upon 
a  pedestal  and  did  her  silent  homage.  She  knew 
her  lessons  without  apparent  study,  asked  no 
instructions  or  favours,  and  never  entered  their 
world  except  in  quest  of  her  brother. 

Dick  had  been  inspected  early.     A  stumble  and 


4  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

slip  in  front  of  the  school  gate  had  sprawled  him 
at  full  length  in  a  puddle  and  lavishly  splashed 
her  with  mud.  His  shamefaced  "Excuse  me" 
was  not  answered,  and  not  even  the  laughter  of 
the  boys  so  harrowed  him  as  the  scrutiny  he  re 
ceived.  She  showed  no  annoyance,  but  looked 
into  and  through  his  gray  eyes  as  though  seeking 
the  reason  of  a  boy's  falling  in  the  mud.  Then 
she  had  turned  her  back  on  him. 

A  little  exhilarated  by  his  conquest  of  Pig,  he 
felt  less  overpowered  by  her  now  and  looked 
frankly  into  her  face.  There  was  the  faintest 
smile  at  the  corners  of  her  mouth,  but  her  mo 
mentary  agitation  had  passed  and  her  expression 
was  as  inscrutable  as  ever. 

"  It  was  very  good  of  you,"  she  said  in  her 
musical,  womanly  voice.  "  I  wish  he  had  a  big 
brother." 

"  I  wish  he  had,"  blurted  out  Dick. 

She  smiled  openly  at  this,  and  looked  up  the 
street  at  her  relative,  now  returning  from  a  short 
pursuit  of  Pig. 

"I  know  your  name  —  Richard  Halpin  — 

"  Dick,"  he  interrupted. 

"  Dick,  then  —  and  you  know  mine.  Do  you 
like  Georgie  ? " 

Dick  did  not.  He  had  stopped  a  "  rock  "  him 
self  a  few  days  before,  and  had  listened  to  Geor 
gie' s  outspoken  disapproval  of  red  hair;  but  he 


THE   AGE   OF   STONE  5 

answered,  "Pretty  well;  though  he's  not  big 
enough  to  travel  with  a  fellow  of  my  size." 

"  But  won't  you  see  that  he  isn't  bullied  ? "  she 
asked  earnestly.  "  He  can't  defend  himself  from 
larger  boys ;  he's  sickly  and  delicate." 

Dick  blushed.  "No,  I. can't  do  that,"  he  an 
swered.  "  I  can't  fight  a  little,  much  less  lick  the 
whole  crowd.  And  most  of  'em  are  bigger  than 
me.  Besides,  your  brother  picks  all  the  rows  him 
self." 

"  Then  won't  you  talk  to  him  ?  He  won't  listen 
to  me.  Will  you  be  his  friend  —  and  my  friend, 
too?" 

"  Yes,"  he  stammered,  with  wide-open  eyes, 
"if  you'll  let  me;  and  I'll  look  out  for  him 
all  I  can,  but  he  must  help,  and  keep  out  of 
trouble." 

"  Thank  you ;  I  knew  you  would." 

There  was  a  faint  tinge  of  colour  in  her  face,  and 
she  stepped  past  him  with  a  slight  inclination  of 
her  head,  as  if  to  bid  him  good  morning.  Then 
she  turned,  smiling  frankly,  and  said  :  "  I  was  on 
the  way  to  school.  Are  you  going  —  Dick  ? " 

So  Dick  walked  to  school  with  Mabel  Arthur. 
She  talked  of  the  good  points  of  Georgie  —  the 
motherless,  abused,  and  generous  Georgie  —  who, 
knowing  nothing  of  the  alliance  in  his  behalf,  and 
apparently  unable  to  comprehend  his  sister's  new 
state  of  mind,  convoyed  them  on  the  opposite  side 


6  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

of  the  street,  often  looking  over  to  make  irrele 
vant  remarks.  Dick  remembered  little  of  what 
she  said  —  only  her  musical  voice. 

In  an  ecstasy  of  pride  and  embarrassment,  from 
a  keen  appreciation  of  his  outward  defects  —  his 
freckles,  fiery  hair,  unpolished  shoes,  and  pocket 
bulging  with  a  pair  of  swimming-trunks  —  Dick 
passed  the  staring  groups  in  front  of  the  school, 
nodding  sheepishly  to  those  of  the  boys  who 
caught  his  eye,  and,  parting  from  Mabel  at  the 
girls'  door,  entered  the  building  by  the  other, 
through  which  a  few  studious  boys  were  al 
ready  straggling  on  toward  their  desks.  Under 
ordinary  circumstances  he  would  have  remained 
outside  with  the  others  until  the  last  bell  had 
rung,  but  this  noon  he  could  not  —  he  lacked  his 
usual  sangfroid;  he  was  only  sixteen,  and  had 
publicly  played  the  young  gentleman  —  escorted 
a  girl  to  school.  Boyhood  resents  this  departure, 
and  he  dreaded  gibes  and  jokes. 

The  schoolhouse  was  a  three-storied  brick  struc 
ture,  standing  at  the  end  of  the  village  street. 
Behind  it  and  beyond  was  vacant  land  reaching 
to  the  river,  and  across  this  land,  cutting  a  few 
fences  and  stone  walls,  was  a  trail  used  by  the 
boys  to  reach  a  famous  swimming-hole,  with  div 
ing-rock  and  spring-board,  a  mile  up  the  stream. 
It  was  here  that  Dick  expected  to  go  when  school 
closed ;  and  it  was  because  of  a  recent  edict  of  the 


THE   AGE   OF    STONE  7 

village  fathers  and  a  cross-grained  constable  that 
he  had  brought  his  swimming-trunks. 

His  class  occupied  the  second  floor  of  the  build 
ing.  There  were  a  few  scholars  at  their  desks  as 
he  entered,  and  going  to  her  seat  on  the  other  side 
of  the  room  was  Mabel,  who  had  beaten  him  up 
the  stairs.  Her  dark  eyes  lightened  momentarily 
as  she  glanced  at  him,  but  for  that  day  she  gave 
him  no  further  attention.  He  put  the  swimming- 
trunks  in  his  desk  and  advanced  to  the  stage 
where  the  principal  sat  at  his  table. 


CHAPTER  II 

"  TTERE'S  my  money  for  the  team,  Mr.  Clark," 
1   I     he    said,  as  he  laid  a  half-dollar  on  the 
table. 

"  Very  well,  Richard  —  thank  you."    He  opened 
a  drawer  and  took  out  two  silver  quarter-dollars 
which  he  pocketed  with  Dick's  half-dollar ;  then, 
removing  a  dollar  bill  from  his  note-book,   he 
slipped  it  into  an  envelope  with  other  bills,  and 
replaced  the  envelope  in  the  drawer. 
"  Now  we  have  it  all  in  bills,  Richard." 
"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  who  had  eyed  the 
money  with  a  boy's  curiosity. 

Mr.  Clark  smiled  benignly,  and  Dick  went  to 
his  seat.  Through  the  afternoon  he  was  re 
peatedly  reminded  that  he  had  risen  in  popular 
estimation.  Girls  —  all  but  Mabel  —  looked  curi 
ously  at  him  across  aisles  and  over  desks,  boys, 
one  after  another,  caught  his  eye  and  elevated 
two  fingers,  a  signal  which  he  answered  in  kind. 
It  meant  swimming  after  school,  and  he  was 
amazed  at  the  sudden  demand  for  his  company 
by  boys  older  and  larger  than  himself  —  who  had 
heretofore  preferred  his  room,  but  he  was  shrewd 
enough  to  understand  it. 


THE   AGE   OF   STONE  9 

Georgie  never  went  swimming,  and  Pig  Jones 
did  not  care  for  Dick's  society  to-day,  but  four 
other  boys  —  all  of  them  older  and  larger  than 
Dick  —  surrounded  him  outside  the  school.  He 
would  have  preferred,  now,  brazenly  to  join  Mabel 
and  walk  home  with  her,  but  his  agreement  to 
go  swimming  was  held  binding ;  so  they  started 
toward  the  swimming-hole,  taking,  for  some  rea 
son  unspoken  among  them,  but  probably  because 
of  their  number,  the  country  road  instead  of  the 
trail.  This  road  circled  inland  and  made  the 
journey  a  half-mile  longer. 

With  big  Tom  Allen  on  one  side  of  him,  bigger 
Will  Simpson,  who  had  once  thrashed  the  hotel 
porter,  on  the  other,  and  Tom  Brandes  and  Ned 
Brown  behind,  Dick  swaggered  out  the  road. 
No  mention  was  made  of  his  fight  and  the 
resultant  acquaintance  by  the  boys  —  they  waited 
for  him  to  speak  and  explain ;  but  he  was  silent. 
A  delicacy  that  was  partly  pride  impelled  him  to 
talk  on  any  other  subject. 

When  the  boys  had  made  a  half  mile  of  the 
journey,  Dick  remembered  that  he  had  left  his 
swimming-trunks  in  his  desk.  Visions  of  a  cross- 
grained  constable,  arrest,  and  friction  at  home 
rose  before  him,  and  he  halted.  "  I'll  go  back  and 
get  'em,  boys,"  he  said,  "  and  come  out  cross-cut. 
Go  ahead,  and  go  slow." 

They  protested,  but  in  vain;  he  quitted  them 


10  MASTERS   OP  MEN 

and  raced  back.  The  street  in  front  of  the  school 
was  vacant.  The  janitor  had  not  come  to  close 
the  building,  and  he  mounted  the  first  flight  of 
stairs  at  a  run  ;  a  little  tired  from  the  exertion,  he 
walked  quietly  up  the  last,  and  opened  the  door 
of  the  schoolroom  to  see  Georgie  locking  the  prin 
cipal's  desk  and  cramming  an  envelope  into  his 
trousers  pocket. 

"  Hello,  Dick,"  he  said,  with  a  red  face,  but 
brave  front. 

"  Hello !     What  are  you  doing  here  ? "   . 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?  " 

"After  my  swimming-pants.  What  did  you 
take  out  of  that  drawer  ?  " 

"  Nothin'." 

"  Yes,  you  did." 

"No,  I  didn't." 

"Yes,  you  did.  Put  it  back.  I  know  the 
envelope.  You  put  that  money  back." 

"Well  — I  won't." 

"Then  I'll  make  you.  Your  sister  asked  me 
to  look  out  for  you  this  morning,  and  I'm  goin'  to 
do  it,  if  I  have  to  do  it  with  a  club." 

"Say,  Dick;  don't  tell  her,  will  you,  if  I  put 
you  on  to  something?  She's  dead  gone  on 
you." 

Partly  from  indignation,  partly  from  the  going 
home  of  the  shot,  Dick's  face  grew  red.  But 
indignation  dominated.  Advancing  on  Georgie, 


THE  AGE   OF   STONE  11 

he  said  :  "  I  know  soft-soap.  You  put  that  money 
back  —  quick,  or  I'll  wring  your  neck." 

In  the  end  Dick  was  compelled  to  choke  him 
before  he  could  get  his  hand  on  the  envelope ; 
then  the  other,  in  a  passion  of  tears,  went  down 
the  stairs,  while  Dick  counted  the  money.  It 
was  all  there,  —  twenty  dollars,  —  and  he  tried 
the  drawer,  but  it  would  not  open. 

"  The  little  thief  has  the  key,"  he  muttered  ; 
"and  I've  got  to  get  it  or  give  him  away,  and 
she  won't  thank  me  for  that.  Nice  contract  I've 
taken." 

Not  caring  to  lose  the  fun  up  the  river,  and 
deciding  that  any  time  before  school  hours  in 
the  morning  would  do  to  return  the  money,  he 
put  it  in  his  pocket,  secured  his  swimming-trunks, 
and  left  the  building,  taking  the  short  cut  across 
the  fields  on  a  run. 

There  was  no  one  at  the  swimming-hole  when 
he  arrived,  but  the  diving-rock  and  spring-board 
were  wet,  and  on  the  ground  was  Tom  Allen's 
knife,  which  he  knew  well,  having  once  owned 
it.  Satisfied  that  the  boys  had  come  and  gone, 
and  wondering  why  they  had  not  waited,  he 
undressed  and  took  his  swim  —  short  because  he 
was  alone  and  because  of  the  load  on  his  mind. 
When  he  was  clothed  again,  he  pocketed  Tom's 
knife  and  returned  by  the  country  road,  finding 
the  boys  he  had  started  with  on  the  ball-ground 


12  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

across  the  street  from  the  school.  Georgie  was 
with  them  now,  looking  on  while  they  listlessly 
threw  the  ball  one  to  another. 

"  Why  didn't  you  wait  for  me,  boys,"  said  Dick, 
as  he  joined  them.  "  I  hurried  as  fast  as  I  could." 

"  "We  didn't  go  swimming,"  answered  Will  Simp 
son,  after  an  interval  of  silence,  during  which  the 
ball  ceased  to  travel. 

"Didn't  ? "  said  Dick,  in  astonishment.  "  Why, 
yes,  you  did.  I  found  Tom's  knife  there."  Tom 
had  drawn  near. 

"  Here's  your  knife,  Tom,"  he  continued,  draw 
ing  it  from  his  pocket.  Tom's  hand  involuntarily 
extended  to  take  it,  then  fell  to  his  side. 

"  'Tisn't  my  knife,"  he  said,  in  a  little  confusion. 
"  I  lost  it  a  long  time  ago  —  don't  know  who  it 
belongs  to  now." 

"It  belongs  to  you,  if  you  lost  it,"  answered 
Dick.  "Take  your  knife.  I  don't  want  it. 
What's  the  matter  with  you  all,  anyhow  ? " 

They  had  drawn  away  from  him,  all  but  Tom, 
who  was  examining  the  knife. 

"Nothin's  the  matter  with  us,"  he  answered, 
handing  the  knife  back,  "I  don't  want  it.  We 
just  changed  our  minds  and  come  back.  We 
didn't  go  near  the  river." 

"Well,  all  right,  if  you  didn't;  but  you  were 
eager  enough  at  the  start." 

Dick  pocketed  the  knife  and  sauntered  over 


THE  AGE  OF   STONE  13 

to  Georgie,  hoping  to  be  able  to  get  the  key  from 
him,  or  at  least  to  talk  him  into  reason  ;  but  that 
young  gentleman  trotted  off  with  a  fine  display 
of  indifference,  whooping  occasionally,  like  a  boy 
with  a  clear  conscience.  It  was  unwise  to  pursue 
him  openly,  and  resolving  to  catch  him  after  dark, 
Dick  returned  to  the  boys. 


CHAPTER  III 

was  something  in  the  air.  The  boys 
JL  stopped  talking  on  his  approach,  and  the 
ball  went  lazily  back  and  forth  with  none  of  the 
usual  calls  for  a  "  catch."  Puzzled  by  their  man 
ner  and  hurt,  at  last  he  left  them,  wondering 
if  it  had  any  connection  with  the  theft  of  the 
money. 

"If  I  can't  get  him  to  give  up  the  key,"  he 
mused,  "  I'll  have  to  tell  on  him.  Who'd  believe 
that  I  was  trying  to  shield  the  little  viper,  suppos 
ing  it  was  missed  and  found  on  me?  He  don't 
seem  to  care  a  hang  whether  he's  found  out  or 
not." 

It  was  supper  time  when  he  reached  home; 
and,  first  hiding  the  money  in  the  stable,  he  went 
into  the  house.  At  the  table  his  grim-visaged 
uncle,  after  eyeing  him  for  a  moment,  said: 
"Well,  sir,  what  have  you  been  doing  at  school 
to-day  ? " 

"Nothing,"  he  answered  shortly,  but  with  a 
sinking  heart. 

"  Mr.  Clark  was  here  half  an  hour  ago  looking 
for  you.  He  didn't  tell  me  what  you'd  done, 
but  you've  been  up  to  some  devilment,  I'll  be 
bound.  I  promised  your  fool  mother  —  " 

14 


THE   AGE   OP   STONE  15 

Dick  turned  white,  and  jabbed  viciously  at  his 
food. 

"I've  done  nothing,  sir,"  he  said  slowly,  "and 
the  time  will  come  when  you'll  find  it  wise  to 
stop  calling  my  mother  a  fool." 

"That  will  do  —  that  will  do,"  returned  his 
uncle,  raising  a  monitory  forefinger. 

Dick  subsided.  There  was  no  love  lost  between 
uncle  and  nephew,  though  the  mild  and  patient 
old  aunt  beside  him  had  always  been  kind  to  the 
boy.  Dick  had  been  thrashed  through  boyhood, 
and  had  only  escaped  it  lately  by  the  peculiar 
way  in  which  he  had  taken  the  last,  six  months 
before.  He  had  received  a  harsher  beating  than, 
perhaps,  his  uncle  had  meant  to  give  him.  It  was 
the  first  time  that  he  had  not  begged  off  and  wept 
under  punishment,  and  this  possibly  prolonged 
it.  All  that  evening,  forbidden  to  leave  the  house, 
he  had  sat  with  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  answer 
ing  sullenly  when  spoken  to,  and  staring  fixedly 
at  his  uncle  with  eyes  that  flamed  green.  He 
was  ordered  about,  from  one  chair  to  another, 
by  the  uneasy  man,  and  at  last  sent  to  bed,  where 
the  gentle  old  aunt  followed  and  cried  over  him. 
Then  it  was  that  the  green  left  his  eyes,  and  the 
tiger-cub  became  a  boy  again,  sobbing  convulsively 
in  his  aunt's  arms. 

The  next  evening  his  uncle  listened  to  the 
following  dispassionate  words  from  the  now  normal 


16  MASTERS   OP  MEN 

Dick:  "I've  seen  mother's  lawyer.  If  you  lay 
the  weight  of  your  finger  on  me  again,  he  will 
apply  to  the  courts  for  a  new  guardian."  And 
there  was  that  in  the  boy's  face  which  impressed 
the  uncle.  He  had  often  threatened  him  since 
then,  but  never  attempted  punishment. 

Dick  had  a  very  slight  remembrance  of  his 
mother,  but  none  whatever  of  his  father  —  a  naval 
officer  lost  at  sea.  He  was  an  infant  in  arms 
when  this  had  happened,  and  just  able  to  walk 
when  his  mother  had  brought  him  to  her  elder 
brother's  house  —  the  house  that  she  had  left, 
against  his  wish,  to  marry  the  impecunious  man 
who  had  won  her.  And  here  she  had  wept  away 
her  beauty,  then  her  life.  And  there  were  some 
that  followed  her  to  the  grave  who  averred  that 
she  had  died  in  self-defence —  to  escape  the  never- 
ending  recapitulation  of  her  fault  —  the  ceaseless, 
monotonous  variations  of  "I  told  you  so"  dealt 
to  her  by  her  brother.  And  later,  on  occasions 
when  the  boy,  screaming  under  the  lash,  could 
be  heard  a  block  away  in  all  directions  from  his 
uncle's  barn,  these  neighbours  indignantly  declared 
that  he  was  being  slowly  killed  for  the  money 
left  to  him  in  trust.  But  these  remarks,  born 
solely  of  sympathy,  had  little  credence  or  circula 
tion.  Though  as  unpleasant  and  parsimonious 
a  character  as  the  village  contained,  the  uncle 
bore  a  well-proven  reputation  for  integrity  which 


THE   AGE   OF   STONE  17 

stood  him  in  lieu  of  kindlier  elements  of  mind. 
Family  pride,  no  doubt,  contributed  largely  to 
this  fundamental  honesty,  as  it  certainly  did  to 
his  resentment  at  his  sister's  marriage  against  his 
wishes,  and  to  his  later  desire  that  her  son  should 
be  properly  reared.  He  was  prouder  of  his  name 
than  of  his  wealth  —  prouder  still  of  himself; 
and  his  townsmen,  knowing  this  and  disliking 
him  personally,  had  elected  him  town  treasurer 
year  after  year,  and  would  unhesitatingly  have 
accepted  his  mere  word  of  promise  in  any  money 
transaction. 

When  Dick  had  finished  supper  he  put  on  his 
hat  and  left  the  house.  It  was  late  in  the  even 
ing  when  he  found  Georgie  and  ran  him  down 
as  a  wolf  runs  a  deer.  There  was  argument 
and  persuasion  on  his  side,  with  a  picture  of 
Mabel's  grief  and  shame  if  the  theft  was  known  — 
and  there  was  jeering  and  defiance  from  Georgie ; 
then  there  was  highway  robbery  and  separation, 
and  Dick,  with  a  key  in  his  pocket  and  a  bump 
on  his  head  from  the  impact  of  a  "  rock,"  —  a 
supply  of  which  Georgie  seemed  to  carry  in  his 
pocket,  —  went  home  to  bed. 

In  the  morning  he  was  up  early  and  off  to 
school  with  the  money  in  his  pocket,  thankful,  as 
he  climbed  the  stairs,  that  the  janitor  was  busy  on 
the  ground  floor ;  and  that  there  was  still  fifteen 
minutes  before  the  first  bell  would  ring,  giving 


18  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

him  plenty  of  time.  There  was  no  one  in  the 
room  as  he  entered  ;  he  approached  the  principal's 
table,  inserted  the  key,  and  found  that  it  worked 
unevenly,  proving  that  it  did  not  belong  to  the 
lock;  but  at  last  it  turned.  He  opened  the 
drawer,  placed  the  money  in  the  corner  where 
the  principal  had  lodged  it,  shut  and  locked  the 
drawer  and  turned  —  to  look  into  the  grave  face 
of  Mr.  Clark,  who  was  coming  out  of  the  class 
room  back  of  the  stage. 

"  So,"  he  said,  slowly  and  sadly,  "  you  became 
frightened  when  you  heard  that  I  called,  and 
decided  to  put  it  back.  I  expected  you.  Did 
you  return  it  all  ? " 

"  It's  all  there,"  answered  Dick,  weakly ;  then 
realizing  his  position,  he  went  on  hotly,  "  I'm  no 
thief  —  I  didn't  steal  that  money." 

"  Take  your  seat,  sir." 

Dick  obeyed,  and  Mr.  Clark  opened  the  drawer 
with  his  own  key  and  counted  the  bills.  Then 
seating  himself  he  began  writing,  and  Dick, 
wildly  trying  to  formulate  his  defence,  knew,  with 
the  prescience  of  the  condemned,  that  the  writing 
was  for  his  uncle's  eyes.  And  how  could  he  clear 
himself?  It  seemed  that  nothing  but  a  direct 
accusation  of  Georgie  and  a  truthful  statement 
of  fact  would  answer  now ;  yet  he  hesitated  to 
make  public  his  motive  —  to  tell  of  his  new 
friendship  and  promise  to  a  girl  —  such  a  ridicu- 


THE   AGE   OF    STONE  19 

lous  promise,  too.  But  when  Mabel  came  in  and 
smiled  as  she  passed  to  her  seat,  his  wavering 
resolution  was  strengthened.  He  would  clear 
himself,  somehow,  but  he  would  not  stab  her 
through  the  brother  she  loved. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  last  bell  rang,  the  school  assembled,  and 
after  the  opening  exercises  and  subsequent 
buzzing  and  shuffling  of  books,  Mr.  Clark  tapped 
his  bell — louder  than  usual  —  and  the  hubbub 
ceased.  The  principal  was  a  tall,  spare  man,  and 
his  kindly  face  was  unusually  stern. 

"  Before  we  open  school  this  morning,"  he  began 
in  his  slow,  steady  voice,  "we  will  dispose  of  a 
matter  that  demands  immediate  attention.  You 
all  know  about  the  fund  contributed  by  the  boys 
for  the  eleven's  new  suits.  It  is  a  matter  in  no 
way  connected  with  your  studies  ;  but  the  theft  of 
that  money  has  a  vital  connection  with  the  school, 
and  I  am  compelled  to  take  action.  "We  have  a 
thief  among  us.  The  last  instalment  of  the  fund 
was  contributed  yesterday  noon  by  Richard  Hal- 
pin  —  Richard  Halpin,  come  forward." 

White  in  the  face,  Dick  arose  and  advanced  to 
the  front. 

"Richard  Halpin,"  continued  the  principal; 
"you  saw  where  I  placed  the  money  yesterday 
noon.  After  school  you  returned,  unlocked  the 
drawer  with  a  key  of  your  own,  left  the  build 
ing,  and  ran  through  the  back  gate  and  across 

20 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  21 

the  vacant  lots.  I  saw  you  from  the  window  of 
my  house  down  the  street.  That  afternoon  I 
visited  the  school  and  noted  the  absence  of  the 
money.  I  called  at  your  home  and  waited  for 
you  until  nearly  supper-time,  hoping  to  induce 
you  to  make  amends  by  confessing  and  by  re 
turning  the  money  then;  as  you  did  not  come, 
I  went  home.  However,  my  visit  must  have 
become  known  to  you,  and  you  were  frightened. 
I  came  to  school  early  this  morning  and  saw 
you  return  the  money  to  the  drawer.  Had  you 
admitted  your  guilt,  I  should  have  talked  it 
over  with  you,  but  you  brazenly  denied  it." 

"  I  deny  it  again,"  declared  Dick,  bravely ;  "  you 
saw  me  running  because  I  wanted  to  catch  up 
with  the  boys,  and  I  went  cross-lots,  too ;  I  had 
come  back  for  my  swimming-trunks." 

"You  were  going  in  swimming  with  other 
boys?  What  boys?" 

"  Some  of  the  big  fellows  —  we  were  going  up 
to  the  swimming-hole." 

"  Name  the  boys  you  went  in  swimming  with." 
The  principal  reached  for  paper  and  pencil. 

"  I  didn't  go  in  with  them.  They  didn't  wait. 
I  went  in  alone.  They  said  afterward  that  they 
didn't  go  in." 

"  They  said  so  ?  Do  you  know  this  ?  Did  you 
see  any  boys  at  all,  up  there  ? " 

Dick  could  not  understand  how  the  whereabouts 


22  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

of  himself  or  the  boys  bore  on  the  case,  but  he  had 
no  reason  to  tell  anything  but  truth  about  the  trip 
up  the  river,  so  he  answered :  — 

"  Didn't  see  anybody  till  I  got  back,  but  I  found 
Tom  Allen's  knife,  and  the  place  was  all  wet  •  so 
some  one  was  there." 

"  Tom  Allen,"  repeated  the  teacher,  writing  the 
name  down.  "  Who  else  was  in  the  party  which 
started  ? " 

"Will  Simpson,  Tom  Brandes  —  " 

The  door  burst  open,  and  into  the  room  stormed 
a  big  man  with  a  whip  in  his  hand  and  mud  on 
his  boots.  There  was  anger  in  his  sun-burned  face, 
and  around  him  was  the  atmosphere  of  horses  and 
cattle. 

"Got  'em  yet,  Mr.  Clark  —  this  one  of  them?" 
He  advanced  on  Dick,  who  retreated  into  an  aisle, 
realizing  dimly  as  he  went  that  trouble  was  brew 
ing  for  others  as  well  as  himself. 

"  No,  no,  Mr.  Bronson,"  said  the  principal ;  "  be 
seated,  please.  This  is  not  one  of  the  boys  you 
want,  but  he  has  been  a  valuable  witness.  Take 
a  chair,  sir,  until  I  dispose  of  this  boy's  case ;  then 
we  will  investigate.  Were  there  any  others  ? "  he 
said  to  Dick.  "Name  the  rest  with  whom  you 
started  up  the  river.  Come  forward  here." 

Dick  stepped  out  of  the  aisle,  watching  the  big 
farmer  seat  himself,  and  said  quietly :  "  I  don't 
know  what's  happened,  Mr.  Clark,  but  I'm  not 


THE   AGE   OF    STONE  23 

going  to  say  any  more  about  the  crowd.  If 
they've  done  anything,  it's  not  my  business  to 
give  'em  away." 

"  You  will  not  name  the  rest  of  the  boys  1 " 

"  No,  sir."  ' 

"Very  well.  Go  to  your  seat,  pack  up  your 
books,  and  leave  the  school.  You  are  expelled, 
pending  the  action  of  the  board,  which  will 
probably  confirm  your  expulsion." 

"  Is  this  all,  sir,"  asked  Dick,  uneasily.  "  Have 
I  no  chance  to  say  anything  ? " 

"  What  do  you  wish  to  say  ? " 

"  I  say  I  did  not  take  that  money." 

"  Come.  To  convince  you  of  the  uselessness  of 
further  denial,  I  will  confront  you  with  the  boy 
who  saw  you  take  the  money,  and  who  reported 
the  theft  to  me.  George  Arthur,  step  forward." 

This  young  man  left  his  seat  and  approached, 
while  Dick  watched  in  amazement.  George 
Arthur  was  a  peculiarly  handsome  boy  —  curly- 
haired  and  bright-eyed.  Halting  in  front  of  the 
school,  he  half  turned,  and  with  his  hands  down 
his  pockets  and  legs  wide  apart,  pursed  his  lips 
into  an  expression  of  fifteen-year-old  virtue. 

"  Tell  the  school  the  story  you  told  me  at  my 
house." 

"I  came  back,"  said  the  boy,  in  a  monotone, 
facing  the  scholars,  "  to  get  my  knife  which  I  left 
in  the  g'ography  class,  and  I  saw  Dick  Halpin 


24  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

from  the  recitation  room.  He  took  the  money, 
and  I  came  out  and  told  him  I'd  tell  on  him,  and 
he  wanted  me  to  go  halves  and  keep  still,  but  I 
wouldn't  and  ran  out,  and  he  followed,  telling  me 
to  wait  and  take  half,  but  I  said  I  wasn't  a  thief 
and  I  went  over  to  Mr.  Clark's  house  and  told 
him." 

"  You  lie,"  yelled  Dick. 

"Silence,"  thundered  the  principal;  but  Dick 
was  past  taking  orders.  It  was  a  very  red  boy 
in  red  knickerbockers  whom  he  was  pursuing 
down  aisles  and  over  red  desks  and  red  boys 
and  girls,  and  he  wanted  to  catch  him.  A  dark- 
eyed  girl  screamed,  and  others  followed  suit. 
Scholars  left  their  seats,  some  to  get  out  of 
Dick's  way,  others  —  the  larger  boys  —  to  head 
him  off.  Georgie  was  agile  and  cleared  desks 
easily;  close  after  came  the  enraged  Dick,  and 
behind,  through  the  aisles,  a  conglomerate  surg 
ing  mob  headed  by  the  principal.  But  at  last 
Dick  was  tripped,  collared  by  Mr.  Clark  and 
marched  to  his  seat. 

"Take  your  books,  sir,  and  go,"  panted  the 
angry  principal. 

"I  won't  till  I've  had  my  say,"  cried  Dick, 
struggling.  "Let  go  of  me.  He  stole  that 
money  himself  —  I  saw  him.  He  tells  the  very 
story  I  could  have  told  if  I  was  a  sneak.  He's 
the  thief." 


THE   AGE   OF    STONE  25 

Chivalry  went  to  the  winds.  This  was  beyond 
his  limitations,  and  all  the  promises  to  all  the 
sisters  in  the  world  could  not  seal  his  lips ;  he  was 
too  insanely  angry.  Then,  over  in  the  front  rank 
of  the  girls,  he  saw  Mabel,  with  her  arms  about 
her  brother,  looking  at  him  with  horror  in  her 
face.  The  shock  did  him  good. 

"  Let  me  get  out,  Mr.  Clark.  I'll  go.  Let  me 
get  my  books,"  he  said  quietly. 

"Go,"  said  the  principal  sternly,  "and  if  you 
have  a  case,  take  it  to  the  school  board." 

He  released  him,  and  Dick  packed  his  books, 
while  the  agitated  scholars  slowly  resumed  their 
seats,  those  who  sat  near  Dick  waiting  until  he 
had  marched  up  the  aisle  and  out  of  the  door. 

Mr.  Clark  resumed  his  position  in  front  of  the 
school.  Taking  up  the  list  of  names  from  his 
table,  he  read  off,  in  a  voice  which  boded  ill  for 
hesitaters  and  halters,  the  names  given  him  by 
Dick.  "  Come  forward,  all  of  you,"  he  said.  The 
three  boys  ranged  themselves  before  him. 

"  You  have  seen,  young  gentlemen,"  began  Mr. 
Clark,  as  he  eyed  them  sternly,  "the  futility  of 
denying  a  guilty  action.  Let  me  advise  you. 
Tell  the  truth  manfully ;  own  up  to  what  you 
have  done.  Yesterday  afternoon  Mr.  Bronson 
saw  you  going  down  over  his  land  to  your  swim 
ming-place.  He  called  on  me  last  evening  and 
asked  me  to  identify  you;  for,  while  there,  you 


26  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

caught  his  yearling  colt,  and  tied  a  bush  to  his 
tail.  Then  you  laughed  and  shouted  while  the 
colt  ran  himself  to  death.  A  prompt  admission 
will  no  doubt  save  you  from  arrest  and  leave  the 
matter  to  be  settled  by  your  parents.  I  speak 
as  your  friend  and  to  spare  my  school  the  dis 
grace.  Do  you  admit  this?  And  will  you  give 
the  names  of  the  others?" 

There  was  admission  in  their  faces.  Not  expect 
ing  the  sudden  turn  of  events,  they  had  arranged 
no  concerted  denial. 

"We've  got  to  admit  it,  I  suppose,  sir,"  said 
Will  Simpson  at  last,  "  but  we're  not  bound  to 
give  others  away.  At  least  I  won't." 

"  That  will  do  ;  go  to  your  seats.  This  must  be 
settled  out  of  school."  The  principal  added  more 
writing  to  the  list  and  turned  to  the  farmer.  "  Mr. 
Bronson,"  said  he,  "  here  are  the  names  of  these 
three,  and  the  addresses  of  their  parents." 

The  farmer  took  the  list,  nodded  his  thanks,  and 
left  the  building. 

Then  school  opened  for  the  day,  but  little  prog 
ress  was  made  in  studies. 


CHAPTER  Y 

AFTER  school  that  noon  four  boys,  with 
gloom  in  their  souls,  mustered  under  a  tree 
on  the  ball-ground.  Not  one  cared  to  go  home 
to  a  dinner  which  might  be  seasoned  with  parental 
rebuke;  so  they  lounged  on  the  grass,  kicking 
their  heels,  nibbling  grass-bulbs,  and  occasionally 
commenting  on  the  hopeless  outlook. 

As  they  lay  there,  Pig  Jones  joined  them  and 
offered  sympathy  and  advice ;  then  Dick  Halpin 
came  climbing  over  the  fence  at  the  other  side 
of  the  field.  Swinging  his  books  by  the  strap, 
he  slowly  approached  the  group  under  the  tree. 
His  lip  was  swollen  and  there  was  trouble  in  his 
face ;  but  he  was  calm  and  serious  as  he  ran  his 
eye  over  the  party. 

"  I  don't  know  what's  up,  boys,"  he  began ;  "you 
didn't  tell  me  anything,  but  if  I'd  even  guessed 
that  anything  had  happened  I  wouldn't  have  told. 
What  is  it  ?  " 

"  We  killed  a  colt,"  answered  Will,  as  he  rolled 
over  to  face  him.  "We  didn't  mean  to  —  he  got 
away  from  us.  But  it  wouldn't  have  been  found 
out  if  you  hadn't  had  so  much  to  say." 

27 


28  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

"And  I  wouldn't  have  had  a  word  to  say  if 
you'd  put  me  on  to  it.  But  you  didn't,  and  I 
didn't  know.  I  was  trying  to  clear  myself. 
That's  why  I  told  where  I  was  going.  I  wouldn't 
give  any  one  away." 

"  Yes,  you  would,"  sneered  Pig  Jones.  "  Even 
if  you  were  one  o'  the  gang  you'd  ha'  told  on  the 
rest.  You  proved  that  to-day  —  lyin'  'bout  the 
money  you  stole." 

"  I  tell  you  I  wouldn't,"  answered  Dick,  angrily ; 
"  and  the  man  who  says  I  stole  that  money  is  a 
liar." 

This  was  strong  language,  and  too  defiant 
altogether  from  a  boy  of  Dick's  size. 

"  I  say  you  stole  it,"  returned  Pig. 

"  Then  you're  a  liar." 

"  I  say  you  stole,"  said  Tom  Brandes  —  larger 
than  Pig;  Ned  Brown  repeated  it,  and  Dick, 
whose  face  had  tightened,  answered,  "  You  are  a 
pack  of  liars,  and  I  can  back  it  up."  He  dropped 
his  books  and  flung  off  his  coat ;  then  Will  Simp 
son,  who  had  not  yet  joined  the  allied  powers, 
arose  in  his  dignity. 

"  What  ? "  said  he.     "  Am  I  a  liar  ? " 

"  If  you  say  I  stole  that  money,  you're  a  liar," 
stormed  Dick. 

"  I  say  you  stole  it." 

"  Then  you're  a  liar." 

There  was  a  flourish  and  a  tangle  of  fists,  and 


THE  AGE   OP   STONE  29 

Dick  went  down.  When  he  arose,  his  right  eye 
was  closing. 

"Want  any  more?"  asked  his  big  antagonist. 
Dick's  reply  was  a  tiger-like  pounce.  Then  they 
clinched  ;  but  it  was  disastrous  for  Dick.  He  was 
punched,  choked,  squeezed,  and  at  last  lifted  bodily 
and  launched  headlong,  falling  heavily.  He  was 
no  match  for  the  other,  who  was  unscathed  in  the 
shuffle,  and  before  he  arose  he  was  kicked  by  Pig, 
who  yelled,  "  Give  it  to  him,  fellers  —  give  it  to 
the  thief  —  give  it  to  the  tattle-tale."  His  foot 
was  caught  at  the  second  kick  by  the  prostrate 
boy,  and  he  was  thrown ;  but  before  Dick  could 
do  more  than  rise  to  his  feet,  Tom  Allen  asked  his 
opinion  of  his  veracity,  and  the  answer  brought 
another  knock-down  from  Tom.  Then,  to  hurry 
through  a  painful  duty,  they  all  surrounded  him, 
kicking  and  pounding. 

"  That'll  do,  now,  that'll  do,"  said  Will ;  "  we've 
killed  a  colt,  and  that's  enough." 

They  walked  away.  Dick  arose  to  a  sitting 
posture  and  looked  after  them ;  but  there  was  no 
green  flame  in  his  half-closed  eyes ;  neither  had 
he  seen  red  during  the  struggle.  These  might 
come  later.  He  had  thought,  at  the  last,  that  he 
was  fighting  for  his  life,  and  he  had  even  entered 
the  fracas  with  doubt  that  was  only  dominated 
by  his  indignation  and  will.  He  was  now  thor 
oughly  subdued,  and  only  in  the  complete  absence 


30  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

of  all  fear  will  come  the  destructive  rage  which 
turns  all  things  red. 

It  is  hardly  probable  that  Pig's  sympathy  and 
advice,  or  his  initiative  in  the  prelude  of  insult 
had  induced  the  other  four  to  this  extremity  of 
action ;  they  were  young  and  close  to  Nature,  and 
the  species  to  which  they  belonged  but  a  few 
thousand  years  away  from  the  Age  of  Stone,  when 
marriage  was  by  capture,  and  the  better  warrior 
was  the  better  wooer,  admired  by  his  fellows  when 
successful,  clubbed  to  death  before  his  scornful 
wife's  eyes  when  wounded  or  ill.  Dick  Halpin, 
by  winning  and  then  losing  —  for  some  had  noted 
her  look  of  horror — the  favour  of  the  school 
beauty,  had  called  it  into  force  —  this  second  law 
of  Nature;  though  perhaps  not  a  boy  among 
them  would  admit,  even  to  himself,  that  Mabel 
Arthur  was  in  any  way  connected  with  the  animus 
of  their  assault.  But  Pig's  position  was  definite 
—  he  had  '  squared  up.' 

When  they  were  out  of  sight,  Dick  picked  up 
his  books  and  painfully  made  his  way  to  the  river- 
bank  behind  the  schoolhouse.  There  he  staunched 
the  blood  from  his  nose  and  bathed  his  head,  which 
ached  and  throbbed  from  his  fury  of  the  morning 
and  from  the  hard  knocks  it  had  received.  Then 
he  found  a  shady  spot  on  the  bank,  and,  watching 
the  stream  and  farm-land  beyond,  tried  to  reduce 
his  chaotic  thoughts  to  order. 


CHAPTER  YI 

"  T  SEE  my  finish,"  he  mused.  "  I'm  a  thief  in 
JL  this  town,  and  I'm  kicked  out  of  school  — 
can't  even  get  the  last  exam. ;  hammered,  too,  till 
I  can't  see,  just  for  nothing.  What  ails  them  all? 
I  did  them  no  harm.  They'd  have  been  found 
out  in  time.  What'll  the  old  man  do?  Won't 
believe  me  any  more  than  Clark  did.  The  young 
devil  1  Who'd  think  he  had  the  nerve  ?  Oh,  I'll 
fix  him  for  this.  But  that  won't  help  —  I  can't 
clear  myself  that  way.  I'm  a  thief  —  a  proven 
thief  —  and  nothing  '11  disprove  it  but  his  confes 
sion.  And  he  won't  confess  —  not  much.  I  could 
choke  it  out  of  him,  but  it  wouldn't  go.  He'd 
say  it  was  compulsion.  Wonder  if  it  would  do 
any  good  to  tell  her  straight  —  just  how  it  was. 
She  might  get  it  out  of  him ;  but  she  won't,  and 
if  she  believed  me  it  would  only  make  her  feel 
bad  —  and  she  won't  believe  me,  anyhow.  Might 
as  well  go  home  —  no,  I  can't  —  and  won't." 

He  waited  until  the  second  bell  had  rung  —  for 
he  did  not  care  to  meet  the  scholars  —  feeling,  as 
the  clang  of  the  last  stroke  dwindled  to  silence, 
the  curious,  nervous  sense  of  liberty  and  loneli 
ness  which  comes  to  emancipated  schoolboys. 

31 


B2  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

Then,  when  sure  that  all  were  within  the  building, 
he  picked  up  his  books  and  crossed  the  lots  to  the 
street.  Beyond  the  school  he  met  Mr.  Bronson, 
the  farmer  whose  colt  had  been  killed,  driving 
out  in  his  buckboard.  The  farmer  scrutinized 
his  face,  stopped  his  horse  and  beckoned.  Dick 
approached. 

"  You  the  boy  that  got  expelled  this  mornin'  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  What  ails  your  face  ? " 

"  Got  done  up  by  the  boys." 

"  What  boys  ? " 

"  The  fellows  that  killed  your  colt.  They  laid 
me  out  for  telling  their  names  before  I  knew  any 
thing  was  up." 

"  All  pile  on  to  you  ? " 

"All  that  could  —  yes;  I  guess  they  all  got  in 
a  kick  or  two." 

"  The  young  devils !  I'll  fix  'em,  though. 
Now,  I  want  the  names  of  all  that  crowd. 
You  didn't  tell  all  of  them.  Who  were  the 
others  ? " 

"You  mustn't  ask  me,  sir.  I  don't  feel  very 
bad  now  about  what  I  said  ;  but  I've  no  quarrel 
with  them  about  that  matter ;  and  I  don't  believe 
in  tattling,  anyhow." 

"  Well,  well,  maybe  that's  right  ;  but  I'll  find 
out,  just  the  same.  But  say,  my  boy,  tell  me 
squarely.  Did  you  take  the  teacher's  money  ?  I 


THE   AGE   OF    STONE  33 

saw  your  tantrums  at  school,  and  it  didn't  look 
like  make-believe." 

"  I  did  not  take  it  —  I  saw  it  taken,  and  tried 
to  make  the  little  cuss  put  it  back.  I  had  to  take 
it  away  from  him,  but  I  didn't  get  the  key  until 
late  that  night ;  so  I  had  to  wait  till  morning 
before  I  could  return  it.  Then  I  was  caught  at 
it,  and  accused  by  the  very  one  I  was  trying  to 
shield."  He  spoke  earnestly ;  he  wanted  some 
one  to  believe  him. 

"  But  what  did  you  do  it  for  ?  "Why  didn't  you 
go  and  tell  Mr.  Clark  ?  " 

"I'm  not  that  kind;  I  don't  tell  you  the  names 
you  want." 

"Different  thing.  Malicious  mischief  and  cru 
elty  to  dumb  brutes  is  bad  enough,  but  stealing  is 
low  down.  A  thief  deserves  no  such  considera 
tion." 

"  I  promised  —  I  told  one  of  his  family  I'd  look 
out  for  him  a  little,  and  take  care  of  him." 

"Sister?" 

Dick's  face  showed  red  between  the  bruises, 
and  the  farmer  grinned. 

"  So,  so,"  he  said ;  "  well,  you're  pretty  young 
for  that.  I  reckon  you'll  pull  through  all  right. 
So  long." 

Dick  watched  the  broad  back  of  the  farmer 
grow  small  in  the  distance,  then  brought  his 
thoughts  back  to  himself  and  his  future.  Here 


34  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

was  the  first  practical  sympathy  which  he  had 
received  —  which  had  crystallized  into  :  "  You'll 
pull  through  all  right.  So  long." 

"Would  he  pull  through  all  right  ?  The  retreat 
ing  broad  back  of  the  farmer  told  him  plainly 
that  if  he  did,  it  would  be  because  of  his  own 
effort  alone.  In  a  few  hours  he  would  be  hungry, 
and  when  he  ate  it  would  be  of  food  furnished  by 
a  man  who  had  less  sympathy  for  him  than  had 
the  farmer.  But  this  man  held  in  trust  money 
which  would  be  his  when  he  was  of  age  —  how 
much,  he  did  not  know  ;  he  had  never  inquired. 
But  he  would  find  out;  and  he  would  ask  the 
lawyer's  advice. 

He  walked  briskly  down  the  streets  to  the 
business  section  of  the  town  and  opened  the 
office  door  of  the  lawyer  who  had  settled  his 
mother's  estate.  A  smirking  clerk  informed  him 
that  the  lawyer  was  out  of  town  on  business 
which  would  keep  him  away  for  a  month.  With 
gloomy  face  he  sauntered  up  the  streets  toward 
the  school,  and,  while  passing  a  vacant  lot, 
whirled  his  school-books  high  in  the  air  over  the 
fence.  "With  them  went  his  past,  and  the  hopes, 
plans,  friendships,  and  ambitions  which  pertained 
to  it.  He  was  no  longer  a  schoolboy,  satisfied 
with  praise  and  a  favourable  monthly  report.  The 
world  was  before  him  and  against  him. 

Yet  the  habit  of  years  guided  his  wandering 


THE   AGE   OF   STONE  35 

steps  to  the  vicinity  of  the  school  from  whose 
thrall  he  had  escaped  ;  and  as  he  hung  over  a 
fence  adjoining  that  of  the  school  grounds,  the 
closing  bell  sounded  from  the  cupola.  The 
scholars  would  be  out  in  five  minutes. 

Acting  on  a  sudden  resolve  he  placed  himself 
near  the  girls'  entrance,  where  he  knew  that  every 
scholar  in  the  three  departments  —  except  possi 
bly  ball-players  or  swimmers  —  must  pass  him  ; 
and  he  was  savagely  pleased  at  the  results.  He 
was  a  peculiarly  ugly  boy  just  then  —  scarred, 
disfigured,  and  scowling  —  and  in  a  very  ugly 
mood.  Also,  he  held  in  his  hand  an  ugly,  sharp- 
edged  fence-picket  for  the  benefit  of  any  boy  who 
might  feel  moved  to  repeat  or  duplicate  the  pun 
ishment  of  the  ball-ground. 

The  news  of  his  disgrace  had  gone  through  the 
three  departments  at  recess  and  at  noon.  Every 
one  in  the  school  had  known  Dick  Halpin,  but 
none  knew  him  now.  Girls,  big  and  little,  shied 
by  him  with  wide-open,  curious  eyes,  as  though 
they  were  looking  at  some  strange  creature  which 
might  bite.  Small  boys  acted  similarly,  and 
Georgie  made  a  detour  across  the  street,  but  said 
nothing.  The  larger  boys  glanced  unconcernedly 
at  him,  and  passed  dignifiedly  by,  Pig  Jones 
only  giving  sign  of  recognition  —  grimacing  first, 
then  dodging  a  sweeping  blow  of  the  fence-picket. 
But  it  was  Mabel  whom  Dick  was  waiting  to  test, 


36  MASTEKS   OF  MEN 

and  down  the  street  the  larger  boys  stopped  and 
watched,  equally  interested.  She  came  along 
toward  the  last,  and  when  she  hurried  by  with 
the  old  swift,  piercing  glance  at  his  face,  and 
turning  of  her  eyes  ahead,  the  heart  of  the  boy 
tightened,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  sky  was 
suddenly  darker,  and  the  air  colder.  He  laughed, 
but  it  was  not  a  pleasant  laugh  —  not  the  mirth 
of  a  healthy-minded  boy. 

A  girl  a  year  or  so  younger  than  Dick  came 
flying  back  from  the  crowd  down  the  street,  her 
hair  streaming  behind  and  her  blue  eyes  glowing 
with  indignation  and  sympathy. 

"  Oh,  Dicky,"  she  said,  as  she  placed  her  hands 
on  his  shoulders  and  looked  into  his  face.  "I 
want  to  tell  you  —  I  don't  believe  it  —  my  sister 
pulled  me  along,  and  wouldn't  let  me  speak  to 
you.  I  just  hate  that  George  Arthur;  I  know 
you  didn't  steal  it,  Dicky.  What  they  been 
doing  to  you  ?  " 

A  lump  came  in  his  throat  and  tears  to  his  eyes. 
"No,  Bessie,"  he  said  thickly,  "I  didn't;  I  told 
the  truth,  and  I  had  a  fight  over  the  other  thing." 

A  teacher  had  come  between  them.  "  Come, 
Bessie,  go  home."  And  with  a  good-night  to 
Dick  she  went  on. 

He  shouldered  his  picket  and  crossed  the  street 
to  the  ball-ground,  where  in  three  minutes  he  was 
sobbing  his  heart  out  to  the  grass ;  but  it  was 


THE  AGE   OF   STONE  37 

not  his  trouble  that  moved  him,  it  was  Bessie's 
sympathy  and  faith. 

Dick's  interview  with  his  uncle  at  supper-time, 
though  stormy  and  painful,  was  the  least  of  that 
day's  troubles.  It  need  not  be  detailed.  "With 
sneering  and  scornful  upbraiding  the  narrow- 
minded  old  man  flourished  Mr.  Clark's  note 
and  overruled  Dick's  sullen  and  defiant  denial. 
Through  it  all  Aunt  Mollie  shed  tears,  but  at 
tempted  no  vain  mediation.  There  could  be  but 
one  ending.  An  intimation  from  the  angry  uncle 
to  the  effect  that  were  Dick  not  his  sister's  child 
he  would  turn  him  out  was  promptly  met  by 
Dick's  declaration  that  he  would  save  him  that 
trouble  —  he  would  go  when  he  had  finished  his 
supper,  which,  with  the  clothes  on  his  back,  he 
considered  himself  entitled  to. 

So,  with  a  kiss  and  good-by  for  his  agitated 
aunt,  and  an  unboyish  curse  for  his  uncle,  Dick 
Halpin,  with  two  black  eyes  and  a  swollen  nose, 
and  with  nothing  in  his  pockets  but  a  jack-knife 
and  a  key  —  neither  of  which  belonged  to  him  — 
went  out  into  the  gloom  of  the  evening  to  face 
the  world. 


CHAPTER  VII 

WITH  his  hands  in  his  pockets  he  trudged 
through  the  quiet  streets  and  out  into  the 
country  road,  thinking  deeply.  His  headache 
was  gone,  and  his  sore  spots,  though  still  alive, 
not  painful  enough  to  prevent  a  brisk  walk,  the 
most  conducive  to  thought  in  some  temperaments, 
and  he  reviewed  the  happenings  of  the  last  two 
days.  So  rapidly  had  events  crowded  one  another 
that  it  seemed  weeks  back  when  he  had  walked 
to  school  with  Mabel  Arthur  —  envied  of  all  boys. 
And  viewed  in  the  light  of  these  events,  she  was 
more  than  ever  now  like  a  creature  of  some 
higher  species,  or  inhabitant  of  some  distant 
planet,  who,  without  responsibility,  had  entered 
his  life,  done  him  harm,  and  left  it.  But  she  was 
still  the  central  figure  of  his  thoughts,  taking 
precedence  over  the  boys  who  had  ill-treated  him, 
the  teacher  who  had  misjudged  him,  the  scholars 
who  had  snubbed  him,  and  even  Bessie  and  his 
Aunt  Mollie  —  his  only  friends  now.  The  first 
was  only  a  "young  un"  whose  good  will  he  had 
lately  won  by  a  timely  rescue  of  her  kitten,  and 
the  second  was  so  associated  with  and  overshad 
owed  by  the  disagreeable  personality  of  his  uncle 

38 


THE   AGE   OF   STONE  39 

that  she  had  failed,  with  her  passive  negative 
temperament,  of  making  any  deep  or  lasting  im 
pression  on  his  mind.  As  for  his  uncle,  he  had 
ceased  almost  to  think  of  him,  and  hoped  soon  to 
forget  him. 

He  would  ask  Mr.  Bronson  for  work,  study  in 
the  evening,  finish  the  senior  course,  and  go  to 
New  York,  where  he  would  get  a  position  in  a 
store,  or  office,  and  study  law,  or  medicine,  thus 
getting  a  better  education  than  the  other  boys 
could  get  in  the  high  school.  And  when  he  was  a 
prosperous  man,  with  good  clothes  and  a  silk  hat, 
and  a  gold  watch,  he  would  come  back  to  the  vil 
lage  and  put  up  at  the  hotel.  And  the  only  people 
in  the  whole  town  whom  he  would  recognize 
would  be  Aunt  Mollie  and  Bessie.  He  would  kick 
George  Arthur  out  of  his  way  if  he  came  in  front 
of  him.  He  would  take  Aunt  Mollie  —  without  his 
uncle's  permission  —  and  Bessie,  out  riding,  and 
pass  Mabel  Arthur  on  a  crossing,  where  she  would 
have  to  wait  until  they  passed  by.  And  he 
wouldn't  speak  to  her  or  see  her  at  all ;  but  he'd 
give  her  a  chance  later  on  to  speak  to  him,  if  she 
wanted  to,  and  apologize ;  and  when  she  did,  he 
would  just  lift  his  silk  hat  politely,  and  — 

There  was  a  smothered  growl  in  the  rear ;  then 
sharp  teeth  grazed  his  leg  and  closed  on  the  slack  of 
his  trousers,  while  he  was  nearly  thrown  by  the  im 
pact  of  a  bulldog  who  had  come  down  to  the  gate. 


40  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

"Hang  it,"  he  exclaimed,  "even  the  dogs  are 
down  on  me." 

He  recognized  the  large  frame  farmhouse  stand 
ing  back  in  the  darkness  as  that  of  Mr.  Bronson, 
and  he  had  once  enjoyed  a  passing  acquaintance 
with  the  dog ;  so  he  spoke  to  him  kindly  and 
firmly.  But  words  count  for  little  with  bulldogs 
on  duty,  and  he  tried  to  kick.  The  dog  dodged, 
growling  the  while  and  gathering  in  more  cloth, 
until  Dick  was  forced  to  call  for  help.  The  door 
opened,  and  in  the  stream  of  light  far  within 
people  stood  and  peered  into  the  darkness. 

"Call  your  dog  away,  please,  Mr.  Bronson," 
cried  Dick.  "  I  can't  shake  him  off." 

Two  men  ran  down  the  path  and  into  the  road. 
One  was  Mr.  Bronson,  and  the  other  a  giant  of  a 
man,  who  lifted  the  dog  in  the  air  with  a  mighty 
kick,  just  as  the  cloth  began  tearing.  Half  of 
Dick's  left  trouser-leg  went  with  the  dog,  who 
squeaked  once,  and  trotted  into  the  house,  still 
shaking  the  cloth. 

"  It's  me,  Mr.  Bronson,"  said  Dick. 

"By  ginger!  What's  the  matter?  Turned  out, 
or  run  away  ? " 

"  I  guess  it's  both,  sir.  I  can't  live  home  any 
longer." 

"I  know  that  uncle  o'  yours.  He's  a  nice  old 
plum.  Come  into  the  house,  boy,  and  we'll  talk 
it  over." 


THE   AGE   OF   STONE  41 

In  spite  of  his  protests  that  his  trousers  were 
torn,  he  was  taken  into  the  large  kitchen,  where 
Mrs.  Bronson,  a  cheerful-faced  woman,  stood  with 
the  piece  of  cloth  in  her  hand  —  replevined  from 
the  dog  —  and  laughed  at  him.  It  is  given 
women  to  laugh  at  man's  calamity.  They  inherit 
the  tendency  with  their  long  hair  and  the  critical 
faculty,  as  a  sexual  characteristic.  Observe  their 
uncontrollable  risibles  on  a  crowded  street  when 
a  man  falls  down,  or  loses  his  hat,  or  makes  an 
undignified  jump  to  save  his  life.  Men  do  not 
laugh  at  the  victim.  They  stop  the  hat,  assist  the 
fallen  one  to  his  feet,  or  mentally  anathematize 
the  motorman,  and  forget  the  circumstance  in  a 
minute. 

But  though  Mrs.  Bronson  laughed  at  him,  she 
hustled  him  into  a  bedroom,  told  him  to  throw 
out  his  trousers  for  her  to  mend,  and  go  to  bed 
if  he  pleased.  And  Dick  was  pleased  —  very 
much.  Stretched  between  cool  sheets,  he  con 
gratulated  himself  on  the  happy  end  to  a  hard 
day,  and  fell  asleep,  but  wakened  soon  from  his 
own  hard  breathing,  and  because  of  the  talk  in 
the  kitchen,  which  concerned  him. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

IN  the  few  embarrassed  moments  of  his  stay 
in  the  kitchen  he  had  noticed  the  big  man 
who  had  kicked  the  dog,  and  recognized  him  as 
one  he  had  seen  at  times  through  his  boyhood 
swinging  along  the  streets  from  the  station  to 
the  country  road  and  back  —  a  sunburned  man, 
dressed  in  the  big-collared  shirt  and  wide-bot 
tomed  trousers  of  the  navy,  who  was  reputed  to 
be  Mr.  Bronson's  brother.  It  was  his  voice,  a 
deep,  rolling  barytone,  which  he  heard  as  he 
wakened. 

"Can't  tell  anything  about  circumstantial  evi 
dence,"  he  was  saying.  "Things  get  twisted 
around  mighty  curious  sometimes,  and  every 
thing  points  to  the  wrong  man.  On  that  chance 
alone  I  should  say  that  the  kid  didn't  take  the 
money.  That's  a  smart  boy  —  too  smart  to  put 
back  anything  he'd  lifted." 

"But  he  was  seen  taking  it,"  said  Mr.  Bron 
son's  voice.  "Another  boy  saw  him  and  told; 
that's  why  he  put  it  back." 

"  Yes,  and  tells  a  likely  yarn,  too,  you  say ;  and 
this  one  tells  an  unlikely  yarn.  Consequently, 

I'm  with  him ;  I'm  on  the  other  side  of  circum- 

42 


THE   AGE   OF   STONE  43 

stantial  evidence  —  or  positive  evidence  where 
there's  an  object  in  making  it.  If  t'other  kid 
stole  it  he  couldn't  ha'  got  out  of  it  nicer.  Down 
in  the  navy  yard,  on  the  Trenton,  Sam  Davis,  one 
of  the  'prentice  boys,  finished  his  time  and  got  his 
discharge  and  money.  He  was  a  likely  youngster 
and  had  got  up  to  be  captain  o'  the  mizzentop,  so 
he  had  a  good  boodle  due  him  —  'bout  two  hun 
dred.  Well,  he'd  shaken  hands  all  'round  after 
breakfast,  and  was  just  going  out  the  gangway 
port  when  something  caused  him  to  reach  in  and 
feel  of  his  munk-bag  —  little  leather  bag  we  carry 
our  money  in  when  we  have  any,  you  know  — 
and  there  was  nothing  in  it.  So,  some  one  had 
it,  sure.  He  fired  his  bag  and  hammock  in  on 
deck  and  swore  he  wouldn't  quit  the  ship  till  he 
got  it.  It  was  there  when  he  turned  in  night  be 
fore,  he  said,  because,  though  he  admitted  being 
three-sheets-in-the-wind  when  he  came  aboard,  he 
was  straight  enough  to  make  sure  of  his  money 
'fore  he  went  to  sleep.  Well,  the  officers  took  up 
the  case  and  called  all  us  mizzen-  and  main-top  men 
to  quarters  while  the  chief  master-at-arms  went 
through  our  dunnage.  They  found  the  roll  in 
my  hammock  'tween  the  mattress  and  canvas. 
Then  they  made  me  turn  out  my  pockets  and 
found  a  pocket-piece  —  a  Japanese  ten  sen  — 
which  Sam  thought  a  good  deal  of  and  never 
let  go  out  of  his  hands.  So  the  thief  —  which 


44  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

was  me,  'cording  to  the  evidence  —  had  gone 
through  his  pockets  as  well  as  his  munk-bag 
while  he  was  sleeping  off  his  drunk." 

"You  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  sit  there  and 
tell  it,  Ned  Bronson,"  said  Mrs.  Bronson's  voice. 

"  I  didn't  take  it.  I'd  borrowed  his  knife  day 
before  and  returned  it.  The  coin  must  ha'  stuck 
'tween  the  blade  and  handle  and  dropped  out  in 
my  pocket  without  either  of  us  knowing  it.  It 
was  a  penknife,  not  the  big  lanyard  knife.  Well, 
I  had  a  good  record,  and  swore  black  and  blue 
that  I  was  innocent,  —  and  even  Sam  didn't  like 
to  believe  it,  —  so  they  didn't  put  me  in  the  brig, 
but  let  me  sling  my  hammock  in  the  old  place, 
and  that  night  Sam  himself  cleared  me.  He  had 
skipped  out  with  his  dunnage,  got  full  again,  for 
got  that  he  was  out  o'  the  old  ship,  and  that  night 
sneaked  aboard,  and  the  gun-deck  corporal  stowed 
him  under  a  gun  carriage  for  the  night.  'Bout 
an  hour  later  he  caught  him  fooling  'round  my 
hammock  trying  to  stow  his  wad  of  bills  under 
my  mattress.  He  was  sounder  asleep  than  I  was, 
and  I'm  a  pretty  sound  sleeper.  Corporal  re 
ported  it  in  the  morning,  and  it  cleared  me." 

"  Oh  —  sleepwalking." 

"  Yup  —  and  whiskey.  A  man'll  do  things 
when  he's  drunk  that  he  won't  remember  till  he 
loads  up  again.  I  tell  you,  circumstantial  evi 
dence  is  no  good." 


THE   AGE   OF  STONE  45 

"  I  believe  it  was  all  made  up  between  you  and 
your  friend  Sam,"  said  Mrs.  Bronson.  "  You're  a 
bad  lot,  you  sailor  men." 

"Circumstantial  evidence  is  no  good,  I  tell 
you." 

"  'Tain't  conclusive,  I  admit,"  said  Mr.  Bronson, 
"  but  it's  a  help.  That  boy  in  there  knows  the 
names  that  I  need  to  make  up  my  list.  That's 
all  I  want  of  him." 

"  He's  too  bright  a  boy,  anyhow,  to  stagnate 
around  this  blasted  old  town.  Send  him  down 
to  the  Minnesota,  and  I'll  make  a  sailor  of  him. 
I  like  that  boy ;  he  showed  nerve  with  your  d — d 
dog,  and  he's  got  character.  Bet  you  don't  get 
any  information  out  o'  him." 

Dick  listened  no  more.  His  mended  trousers 
were  inside  the  door,  and  he  dressed  himself. 
Stepping  into  the  kitchen,  he  confronted  the  two 
men  smoking  at  the  table.  Mrs.  Bronson  had 
disappeared. 

"  I  wasn't  asleep,  Mr.  Bronson,"  he  said, "  and 
I  heard."  He  spoke  unevenly,  for  there  was  a 
lump  in  his  throat.  Turning  to  the  other,  who 
was  regarding  him  with  an  amused  look  in  his 
brown  face,  he  said  :  — 

"  You  are  right,  sir ;  I'll  tell  on  nobody.  All  I 
want  is  a  place  to  work  and  sleep.  Do  they  have 
boys  of  my  size  in  the  navy  ? " 

"  Lots  o'  them.     Want  to  enlist  ?  " 


46  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

"Yes,  sir,  I  do;  I  think  I  would 'like  it.  My 
father  was  a  naval  officer." 

"  It's  a  tough  life,  and  it  makes  a  machine  of  a 
man  ;  but  as  I  understand  your  case  it's  about  the 
best  thing  you  can  do.  Are  you  healthy  —  ever 
have  fits  ? " 

"I'm  as  healthy  as  I  can  be.  No,  I  never  had 
fits  yet." 

"  Can  you  climb  ? " 

"  I  can  climb  trees." 

"  Can  you  keep  your  temper  when  you  feel  like 
murder  ?  Can  you  grip  your  tongue  'tween  your 
teeth  when  a  young  pup  just  out  o'  the  naval 
academy  calls  you  a  swab,  and  a  soger,  and  a 
farmer  ? " 

Dick  swiftly  reviewed  the  day's  ordeals,  and 
answered  :  "  I  could  if  I  had  to,  sir." 

"  You'll  have  to,  never  fear.    Got  any  money  ? " 

"  No,  sir  —  not  a  cent." 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  you.  You  can  hoof  it  to  New 
York,  and  starve  by  the  way,  but  'taint  necessary. 
Fare's  eighty  cents,  and  guardian  fee's  a  dollar. 
I'll  go  a  dollar  eighty  on  you.  I'm  guardian  to 
three  young  rapscallions  down  there  now.  You'll 
ship  as  third-class  boy,  at  nine  a  month  and  ra 
tions,  but  you'll  only  get  liberty  money  until  your 
time  is  up  —  when  you  are  of  age.  By  that  time 
you'll  have  seen  something  of  the  world,  and  can 
make  a  better  start  in  life,  or  ship  over  again,  if 


THE  AGE  OF   STONE  47 

you  like  it.  You  can  pay  me  the  dollar  eighty 
in  instalments  out  of  your  liberty  money. 

"  Bill,"  he  said  to  the  farmer,  "  let  this  boy  stop 
here  till  his  face  gets  in  shape  again,  and  if  I'm 
gone  then,  send  him  down  to  the  ship.  I'll  leave 
you  the  money." 

"  Well,  all  right.  But  say,  youngster,  I'll  give 
you  the  money  —  I'll  make  it  two  dollars  —  if  you 
give  me  the  names  of  the  other  boys." 

"  No,  sir.  I'm  obliged  to  Mrs.  Bronson,  but  I'd 
rather  walk  out." 

"All  right,  all  right,"  said  the  farmer,  impa 
tiently.  "  I'll  get  'em.  Go  to  bed  again.  Good 
luck  to  you." 


CHAPTER  IX 

A  WEEK  later  Mabel   Arthur  was  handed  a 
package  addressed  to  her  at  the  post-office. 
It  contained  a  key,  and  a  letter  which  she  read, 
and  then,  hurrying  home,  read  again  after  supper, 
in  her  room.     It  ran  as  follows :  — 

"U.S.S.  MINNESOTA,  SEPT.,  1893. 

"Miss  Mabel  Arthur:  Here  is  the  key  which  your 
brother  used  to  open  Mr.  Clark's  desk  that  day  you 
asked  me  to  look  out  for  him.  It  was  because  I  said  I 
would  that  I  did  not  want  to  give  him  away.  So  I  took 
the  money  away  from  him,  but  he  had  the  key,  and  late 
that  night  I  took  the  key  away  from  him,  all  because 
I  promised  you.  You  know  how  I  was  caught  putting 
the  money  back  next  morning ;  but  you  believed  I  stole 
it  the  same  as  all  the  others  did.  I  did  not  take  it, 
but  I  wanted  to  keep  my  promise  to  you.  I  loved  you, 
and  you  are  not  worth  powder  to  blow  you  up. 
"  Yours  truly, 

"RICHARD  HALPIN. 

"  P.  S.  I've  shipped  in  the  navy,  and  you  will  never 
see  me  again." 

Mabel  folded  the  letter,  and  idly  tapping  the 
window-sill  with  the  key,  watched  the  details  of 
the  garden  without  disappear  in  the  gathering 

darkness ;  then  she  arose  and  approached  an  old- 

48 


THE  AGE  OF   STONE  49 

fashioned  writing-desk,  to  put  the  letter  away. 
There  was  no  key  in  the  lock,  and  almost  involun 
tarily  she  inserted  the  one  in  her  hand ;  it  turned 
the  bolt  easily.  She  lighted  the  gas,  and  with 
eyes  that  were  large  with  growing  terror,  exam 
ined  the  key.  It  was  old-fashioned  as  the  desk, 
but  told  her  nothing.  She  examined  every  key 
hole  in  the  room.  They  all  contained  keys,  which, 
one  by  one,  she  tried  in  the  desk  ;  but  none  would 
turn  the  lock  but  the  first.  She  opened  the  desk, 
and  carefully  blotting  out  with  ink  the  lines  de 
claring  Dick's  sentiments  and  his  estimate  of  her 
value  in  powder,  threw  herself  face  down  on  the 
bed. 

An  hour  later  her  brother's  whoop  on  the  street 
without  told  of  his  arrival  for  the  night,  and  when 
he  entered  the  house  she  called  him  into  her  room. 
Fifteen  minutes  later  she  called  her  father  from 
the  library,  and  five  minutes  after  she  was  in  the 
street  with  the  key  and  letter  in  her  hand,  speed 
ing  toward  the  residence  of  Mr.  Clark  and  stop 
ping  her  ears  against  a  harrowing  sound  —  a 
sound  which  brought  neighbours  out  of  doors  and 
caused  many  a  jocular  comment  over  the  fence,  a 
boy's  wailing  screams  punctuated  by  the  sharp 
thwack  of  a  trunk  strap. 

Neither  she  nor  her  brother  attended  school 
again ;  but  on  the  following  morning  Mr.  Clark, 
with  a  troubled  face,  addressed  the  scholars,  and 


50  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

announced  the  complete  exculpation  of  Richard 
Halpin  from  the  offence  with  which  he  had  been 
charged,  by  the  confession  of  the  real  culprit, 
whose  name  he  saw  no  occasion  to  divulge.  He 
added  a  few  moral  reflections  concerning  the  peril 
of  too  hasty  conclusions  based  upon  the  outward 
seeming  of  things,  and  warned  them  of  the  folly  of 
yielding  under  adverse  pressure,  as  Richard  Halpin 
from  a  lack  of  moral  stamina  had  yielded,  to  the 
extent  of  embracing,  openly  and  brazenly,  disgrace 
ful  fighting,  —  he  had  attacked  his  schoolmates,  it 
seemed,  —  and,  as  had  become  known  next  morn 
ing,  running  away  from  home.  However,  if  any 
of  the  scholars  should  happen  to  know  where  he 
was,  it  would  be  advisable  to  let  him  know  of  his 
exoneration. 


BOOK   II 
THE  A  an   OF  IRON 

CHAPTER  X 

r  I  iHERE  was  smothered  excitement  throughout 
JL  the  ship.  A  boy  had  run  up  the  gun-deck 
main-hatch  ladder  three  steps  at  a  time,  dodged 
forward  and  mounted  the  fore-hatch  ladder  to  the 
spar-deck  at  the  same  speed;  then  he  had  sped 
to  the  closed-in  space  on  the  forecastle.  Another 
boy  had  followed,  then  another;  and  there  was 
that  in  their  faces  to  induce  men  and  boys  loung 
ing  on  the  deck  and  sitting  in  ports  to  close  books 
with  a  snap,  to  put  away  sewing-gear,  or  hurriedly 
finish  tasks  they  had  "  sogered "  at,  and  join  the 
scattering  streams  of  blue-jackets  crowding  up 
from  the  decks  below. 

Ensign  Breen,  officer  of  the  deck,  shivering  at 
the  gangway  in  a  closely  buttoned  overcoat,  saw 
the  commotion  and  mustering  of  men  and  boys, 
and  turned  his  back.  He  was  a  young  man,  not 
twenty-four,  with  a  pleasant  face,  as  brown  as  a 
Caucasian's  may  become  —  nearly  as  brown  as  his 
hair  and  cheery  eyes ;  for  he  was  just  back  from 

a  tropic  station,  and  had  not  yet  bleached  out  or 

51 


52  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

grown  accustomed  to  the  wintry  chill  of  this  navy- 
yard  berth. 

"  Who  is  it  this  time,  Quartermaster? "  he  asked 
of  a  big  man  who  stood  near  him. 

"  Don't  know  both,  sir,"  answered  the  Quarter 
master,  touching  his  cap ;  "  but  one  of  'em's  my 
boy.  He's  lickin'  all  hands  as  fast  as  they'll 
take  it." 

"  What's  his  name  ?  " 

"  Halpin,  sir ;  apprentice.  He's  one  of  the 
Maine's  crowd.  I'm  his  guardian." 

"  Halpin  ?  I've  noticed  him.  What's  his  grudge 
against  all  hands?" 

"  No  grudge,  sir.  But  you  see,  when  he  shipped 
four  years  ago,  he  was  an  under-built  little  runt, 
and  every  small  scrapper  in  the  ship  who  could 
box  thought  it  right  and  proper  to  soak  Dick 
because  he  was  a  red-head.  He'd  fight  'em,  but 
always  got  done  up,  until  the  cap'n  o'  the  hold, 
and  a  few  more  of  us,  noticed  his  quick  movements, 
and  trained  him  in  boxing.  Then  came  his  turn, 
and  he  had  all  the  fun.  He  was  cock-o'-the-vvalk 
'fore  he  went  to  Newport.  He  isn't  quarrelsome, 
sir ;  but  there's  a  lot  o'  strange  men  in  from  the 
Southern  Station,  and  the  buckoes  among  'em 
don't  know  Dick,  and  he  looks  so  soft  and  inno 
cent  that  they  begin  rubbing  his  fur  wrong  way, 
and  then  they  get  surprised." 

The  young  officer  smiled,  and  he  looked  at  his 


THE   AGE   OF   IRON  53 

watch.  It  was  the  first  dog-watch,  and  there  was 
twenty  minutes  before  the  time  for  the  next  dis 
turbance  of  the  ship's  company  —  mess  formation. 

"  Bronson,"  he  said  in  a  tone  that  the  orderly 
and  messenger  boy  at  the  gangway  could  not  hear, 
"go  forward  and  watch  it  unofficially.  Report 
the  result  to  me.  Don't  let  it  go  too  far,  though." 

"  Very  good,  sir,"  answered  the  quartermaster, 
with  a  grin.  He  left  the  bridge,  went  forward 
and  crowded  his  way  into  a  circle  of  fully  a  hun 
dred  men  and  boys  surrounding  two  who,  stripped 
to  undershirts,  were  resting  after  a  round,  and  lis 
tening  to  advice  from  their  seconds.  One  was 
Dick  Halpin,  twenty  years  old,  five  feet  ten  inches 
in  height,  square  shouldered,  full-chested,  with  his 
freckles  drowned  in  darker  tan,  and  his  hair 
changed  by  the  action  of  the  sun  and  wind  to  a 
color  which  might  be  called  coppery,  but  never 
red.  It  was  uncut  and  wavy,  —  too  long  for  a 
landsman  careful  of  his  personal  appearance,  —  but 
it  formed  an  agreeable  border  to  his  sunburned 
face,  and  harmonized  peculiarly  with  his  gray 
eyes. 

His  antagonist  was  taller  and  heavier  —  and 
slower,  as  evidenced  by  his  well-marked  face  and 
hard  breathing.  The  fight,  short  as  it  had  been, 
was  nearly  finished  when  Bronson  arrived.  As  he 
elbowed  his  way  to  the  front  rank  of  excited  and 
whispering  onlookers,  time  was  called,  and  the 


54  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

combat  resumed.  The  larger  roan  struck  wildly 
and  heavily,  making  no  effort  to  guard ;  but  not 
a  blow  reached  the  agile,  writhing,  whirling  body 
of  the  other,  who  dodged  and  ducked,  sprang  for 
ward  and  back,  planting  light,  stinging,  and  exas 
perating  taps  on  his  face  and  breast  with  almost 
the  quickness  of  a  rattlesnake's  stroke  —  smiling 
through  it  all.  Three  times  Dick  circled  around, 
then,  seeing  an  opening  in  the  lax  guard  of  his 
tired  opponent,  he  sent  his  right  fist,  with  the 
weight  of  the  body  behind,  squarely  under  his  ear. 
The  impact  lifted  the  man,  large  as  he  was,  off  his 
feet,  and  he  fell  heavily  to  the  deck.  Time  was 
called  as  he  began  to  move. 

A  pent-up  hubbub  broke  loose.  The  enthusi 
asm,  though  softly  expressed,  was  genuine  and 
heartfelt.  Boys  surrounded  Dick  and  shook 
hands,  glad  of  the  privilege.  Bronson  clapped 
him  on  the  back  with  a  force  that  made  him 
wince,  and  then  disappeared.  "  Bully  for  Dick  — 
Cock-o'-the-walk  now,  hey,  Dick,"  said  the  boys. 
"  Dick's  a  Greco-Romo-Boxo-wrastlo  —  Dick'll  be 
Jimmy  Legs  yet  —  no,  he  won't  —  not  over  two 
hours  —  he'd  be  disrated  —  Dick,  you  want  to  do 
up  Jimmy  Legs  next ;  he  got  me  two  hours  guard 
duty  —  go  for  him,  Dick."  A  small  boy,  the  pet 
scamp  of  the  ship,  dragged  a  larger  boy  up  to 
Dick  and  said :  — 

"Lick  my   brother  for  me,   Dixie.    He's  too 


THE  AGE   OF    IRON  55 

fresh.  Lick  him,  and  I'll  be  your  clerk  and  cut 
the  notches.  Dick's  got  a  stick  full  o'  notches." 
And  Dick,  putting  on  his  shirt,  smiled,  but  said 
nothing. 

The  defeated  one  painfully  arose  to  his  feet  and 
the  crowd  pushed  them  together.  Dick  extended 
his  hand. 

"It's  all  right,  Halpin,"  said  the  other  as  he 
took  it.  "You've  done  me  up  fair  and  square; 
and  I  knew  you  were  workin'  up  to  it  —  knew  it 
four  years  ago." 

"  No,  Billson,  you're  wrong.  I'm  working  up, 
yes;  but  not  for  you.  I  never  held  a  grudge 
against  any  one  in  the  navy  —  or  against  any  one 
who'd  fight  fair.  I  only  thought  you  and  I  ought 
to  have  it  out." 

"  It's  all  right,  Dick ;  I  guess  you're  best  man 
aboard  now." 

"Best  man,"  laughed  Dick;  "Bronson  could 
shut  his  hand  on  the  pair  of  us." 

The  crowd  was  dispersing,  and  Dick  descended 
to  the  gun-deck  where  he  belonged,  while  Billson 
sought  the  galley  and  the  cook's  ministrations 
toward  the  improving  of  his  damaged  counte 
nance.  Fighting,  though  against  the  written  and 
spoken  rules  of  the  service,  is  generally  winked  at 
in  a  ship  holding  five  hundred  men  and  boys,  the 
officers  feeling  that  it  is  much  better  for  two  who 
disagree  to  go  through  a  short,  sharp,  and  decisive 


56  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

appeal  to  fists  —  at  the  end  of  which  both  may 
shake  hands  —  than  for  one  to  develop  a  bullying 
spirit  and  the  other  an  unneeded  sense  of  injury. 
Both  are  inimical  to  their  efficiency.  But  though 
Billson  had  fought  this  battle  with  an  animus 
born  of  dislike  and  jealousy,  Dick,  on  the  con 
trary,  had  entered  it  with  a  joke  on  his  lips  and 
a  laugh  on  his  face. 

There  was  a  settled,  cheerful  light  in  his  gray 
eyes  that  had  not  been  there  in  his  school-days, 
as  though  he  felt  kindly  toward  the  small  world 
he  was  conquering.  As  Bronson  had  testified,  his 
first  days  in  the  training-ship  were  grievous  ones 
—  marked  by  cuffs,  kicks,  and  insults  from  boys 
he  could  pick  up  and  carry  —  until  he  had  learned 
to  defend  himself.  Then  came  a  hard-fought  bat 
tle  with  an  Irish  maintopman,  and  victory  which 
made  the  next  enemy  easier  to  face.  For  six 
months  after  this,  until  his  transfer  to  the  New 
port  Torpedo  Station,  his  dog-watches  were  spent 
either  in  boxing  practice  in  the  forehold,  or  in 
settling  disputes  of  the  day  on  the  forecastle. 

He  had  easily  passed  the  final  examination  in 
the  ship's  school  when  he  enlisted,  but  this  did 
not  deprive  him  of  his  love  of  books  or  of  his 
studious  habits.  He  became  almost  a  daily  pa 
tron  of  the  ship's  library,  and  in  the  only  compul 
sory  studies,  seamanship  and  gunnery,  he  advanced 
rapidly,  tutored  by  his  friend  and  guardian,  Bron- 


THE   AGE   OF  IRON  57 

son.  He  had  boxed  the  compass  in  one  lesson, 
had  stationed  a  gun-crew  in  two,  and  had  learned 
the  parts  of  the  ship  and  the  knots  and  hitches 
used  in  lashing  hammocks  and  housing  awnings 
in  a  week.  He  also  learned  things  not  prescribed 
by  the  regulations,  such  as  the  tricks  necessary  in 
the  navy  to  escape  unpleasant  duty.  The  differ 
ence  between  the  apothecary's  clerk  and  the  ex 
ecutive  officer,  and  the  minimum  of  respect  which 
would  satisfy  the  latter,  he  had  learned  in  one 
harrowing  interview.  But  at  the  end  of  a  month 
he  applied  for  examination,  and  became  a  second- 
class  apprentice  with  a  new  bag  and  hammock- 
number,  which  transferred  him  from  the  after 
guard  to  the  maintop. 

His  friction  with  his  mates  reacted  on  his 
mind,  giving  him,  as  he  acquired  dominion  over 
them,  an  easy  confidence  in  himself,  and  decision 
of  speech  which  brought  him  local  promotion,  — 
he  was  made  boy-captain  of  the  maintop.  And 
Dick's  rule  over  the  half-hundred  boys  in  the 
maintop  was  kindly,  yet  thorough.  He  never 
reported  for  punishment  a  boy  who  refused  obe 
dience  to  an  order;  he  repeated  the  order  to  a 
second  boy,  and  later  on  used  the  first  in  his  fist 
practice.  But  he  had  little  trouble  of  this  kind ; 
his  wonderful  quickness  of  motion  and  growing 
proficiency  with  his  fists  impressed  the  whole 
ship's  company,  and  made  the  majority  his 


58  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

friends.  Boys  liked  the  genial,  composed  fellow 
who  would  hit  them  hard  with  a  smile  on  his  face, 
hit  them  harder  through  the  consequent  fight,  and 
smilingly  advise  them  on  their  weak  points  when 
he  had  defeated  them.  There  was  one  boy,  how 
ever,  with  whom  Dick  did  not,  during  his  proba 
tionary  period,  come  to  satisfactory  conclusions. 
This  was  Billson,  an  apprentice,  then  captain  of 
the  forecastle,  who,  on  Dick's  bewildering  first 
day  on  board,  had  chased  him  aft  with  clouts 
and  unkind  words.  He  was  the  champion  boxer 
among  the  boys,  and  Dick  had  wisely  avoided  a 
second  meeting  until  sure  of  himself  ;  but  before 
this,  had  come  his  transfer  to  the  Newport  Tor 
pedo  Station  for  further  instruction  in  torpedo 
work  and  rifled  gun  practice,  and  Billson's  trans 
fer  to  a  sea-going  cruiser.  Six  months  at  New 
port  made  Dick  a  first-class  apprentice,  and  he 
was  sent  to  the  Alliance,  sloop-of-war,  in  which 
he  made  a  cruise  and  mastered  the  sea  duties  of 
a  sailor  in  a  square-rigged  vessel  —  steering,  hand 
ling  of  sail,  sending  yards  and  masts  up  and  down, 
and  the  usual  boat,  fire,  and  collision  drill.  Then 
a  year  in  the  big  steel  cruiser  Chicago  and  another 
in  the  new  battleship  Maine  had  finished  him, 
and  he  was  back  to  the  receiving-ship  Vermont, 
a  passed-seaman  apprentice,  trained  and  paid  by 
the  government  to  fight,  and  to  use  as  weapons 
fists,  clubs,  cutlasses,  pistols,  rifles,  machine  guns, 


THE   AGE   OP  IRON  59 

rapid-fire  guns,  turret  guns,  and  Whitehead  tor 
pedoes.  And  here  he  had  found  old  shipmates  of 
four  years  ago,  among  them  Bronson  and  Bill- 
son,  and  had  polished  off  the  latter  at  the  instiga 
tion  of  the  former,  who  loved  the  boy  as  he  would 
a  son,  and  whose  mind  retained  a  vivid  picture  — 
painted  by  Dick  —  of  a  scene  on  a  ball-ground, 
where  his  boy  had  been  kicked  about  by  five 
others.  Bronson  often  talked  of  this  scene  at  the 
petty  officers'  mess,  and  hoped  fervently  that  it 
should  be  given  him  to  be  on  hand  when  that  boy 
returned  and  met  the  five.  It  was  to  this  end 
that  he  had  arranged  for  Dick's  training  in  the 
first  days,  and  had  now  egged  him  on  to  try  con 
clusions  with  the  skilled  Billson  as  a  last  test  of 
his  prowess. 

Dick  was  not  revengeful.  The  bitterness  of  his 
last  days  at  home  had  long  left  his  mind,  but  the 
punishment  of  those  boys  had  been  so  thoroughly 
impressed  on  his  mind  as  a  duty  he  owed  to  him 
self  and  his  calling,  that  he  looked  forward  to  it 
with  the  same  expectant  equanimity  that  he  would 
toward  a  coming  fight  on  the  forecastle,  or  a  trans 
fer  to  another  ship. 

As  for  George  Arthur,  his  fate  and  punishment, 
in  Bronson's  mind,  were  so  clearly  a  matter  for 
Providence  to  attend  to,  that  he  was  seldom 
thought  of. 


CHAPTER  XI 

DICK  had  no  sooner  reached  the  lower  gun- 
deck  after  the  fight  with  Billson  than  the 
stentorian  voice  of  the  chief  boatswain's  mate 
came  down  the  hatchway :  "  Halpin,  Halpin  — 
pass  the  word  for  seaman  Halpin  to  report  to  the 
officer  of  the  deck." 

The  cry  was  taken  up  and  repeated,  echoing 
forward  and  aft  on  three  decks  ;  before  it  had 
ceased  Dick  was  touching  his  cap  to  Mr.  Breen. 

"  You  have  been  fighting,  sir,"  said  the  officer, 
assuming  a  stern  expression  of  face. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  hear  that  you  are  the  most  quarrelsome 
character  on  board  —  that  you  are  continually 
fighting  and  abusing  your  shipmates." 

"I  didn't  know  that,  sir,"  said  Dick,  soberly. 

"  You  began  when  you  enlisted,  I  have  heard, 
to  thrash  every  boy  weaker  than  yourself." 

"No,  sir,  I  did  not.  They  thrashed  me  —  all 
who  wanted  to.  It's  very  easy  to  get  into  a  row, 
sir." 

"  And  since  then  you've  thrashed  them,  is  that 
it?" 

Dick  noticed  a  quiver  at  the  corners  of  Mr. 

60 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  61 

Breen's  mouth,  and  answered  boldly,  "  I  just 
finished  the  last  of  that  crowd,  sir ;  we  had  words 
this  morning  over  brass  work." 

The  officer  hummed  a  tune  softly  while  he 
studied  the  brown  back  of  Bronson,  busily  en 
gaged  in  looking  unconcerned,  yet  taking  in 
every  word. 

"  Where  is  your  home,  Halpin  ? "  he  asked,  after 
a  searching  look  into  Dick's  face. 

"I  have  none,  sir;  I  came  from  Allville,  up 
near  the  state  line." 

"  Allville,"  repeated  the  officer,  half  to  himself. 
"Do  you  know  —  well,  never  mind.  Halpin," 
he  said  earnestly,  "quit  this  fighting.  It  works 
against  you  in  the  long  run.  I've  noticed  you 
around  the  decks  and  have  heard  good  reports 
of  you  from  the  officers  of  the  Maine.  I  want 
you  for  a  shipmate.  Say  nothing  to  the  men, 
but  the  New  York  will  want  a  draft  soon.  I 
shall  go  in  her  and  may  be  able  to  have  you 
placed." 

"The  New  York  —  thank  you,  sir.  I  hear  it's 
the  Mediterranean." 

"Either  that  or  the  South  Pacific;  but  it's  a 
desirable  berth." 

"  How  long  before  the  draft,  sir  ? " 

"  A  couple  of  weeks." 

"  Then  I'd  better  apply  for  my  liberty  at  once, 
sir.  I'm  entitled  to  a  week." 


62  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

"  Go  ahead  —  and  be  good." 

Dick  saluted,  and  returned  to  the  gun-deck  with 
a  very  high  opinion  of  Mr.  Breen.  After  supper, 
when  Bronson  was  off  duty,  he  sought  him,  and 
they  had  a  conversation  which  so  affected  the 
big  quartermaster  that  he  applied  for  liberty  in 
the  morning  and  went  ashore.  When  he  returned, 
forty-eight  hours  later,  he  was  accompanied  by 
two  marines  from  the  gate  guard,  who  steered 
him  to  the  officer  of  the  deck,  and  reported  his 
misconduct,  —  entering  the  yard  intoxicated,  blow 
ing  smoke  in  their  faces,  bumping  the  sergeant's 
head  against  a  stone  wall,  and  using  language  dis 
respectful  to  the  Marine  Corps  and  unbecoming 
a  petty  officer  of  the  navy.  For  which  Bronson, 
though  extremely  repentant,  had  his  shore  leave 
stopped  for  a  month. 

"  And  I  can't  go  along,  Dick,"  he  groaned.  "  I 
can  only  give  my  blessing." 

And  not  only  his  blessing,  but  sound  advice  and 
superintendence  did  he  give,  to  the  result  that 
Dick,  who  would  have  journeyed  home  alone,  was 
induced  to  take  with  him  an  appreciative  and 
enthusiastic  squad  of  youngsters.  "  Not  to  stick 
your  oars  in,"  Bronson  enjoined  upon  them,  "  or 
to  stand  in  his  way ;  it's  his  funeral.  You're  a 
guard  of  honour  —  you're  to  prevent  more  than 
three  jumping  on  him  at  once."  And  so,  when  a 
liberty  crowd  of  a  hundred  men  and  boys  marched 


THE   AGE   OF   IRON  63 

out  of  the  navy  yard  a  few  mornings  later,  twelve 
of  them  waited  with  Dick  outside  until  the  rest 
had  scattered  into  adjoining  streets,  then  boarding 
a  bridge  car,  and  arriving  at  the  New  York  side, 
took  the  elevated  road  uptown  to  the  Grand  Cen 
tral  Station,  where  Dick  bought  excursion  tickets 
for  all,  and  handed  them  around.  They  were 
on  three  days'  liberty.  They  had  been  carefully 
selected  on  their  records  from  a  hundred  eager 
applicants  by  the  discriminating  Bronson.  They 
were  devoted  to  Dick,  and  each  felt  a  respect  for 
himself  and  his  calling  based  on  his  training  in  the 
service,  and  a  chronic  sense  of  injury  which  came 
only  of  his  parentage ;  for  all  but  Dick  were  Irish- 
born, —  mulligans,  they  were  called,  —  and  Dick 
himself  inherited  red  hair,  which  is  conducive  to 
latent  pugnacity,  at  least. 

Truly  Bronson  had  chosen  wisely.  There  were 
Casey,  Sullivan,  O'Toole,  and  Devlin,  shipmates  of 
Dick  on  the  Maine  •  Shannon  and  Doyle  from  the 
Atlanta;  Billson,  whose  first  name  was  Dennis, 
from  the  Chicago  ;  and  Webster,  Scanlon,  Killroy, 
Keegan,  and  Kerrigan  from  the  Miantonomah. 
All  wore  the  cap  ribbons  of  their  last  ships ;  all 
were  in  shirt  sleeves,  —  for,  the  weather  being 
fine,  the  uniform  of  the  day  had  not  included  pea- 
coats,  —  and  all,  except  Dick,  who  paid  car  fare  and 
expenses,  were  penniless,  and  for  this  reason  had 
not  been  off  the  Cob-dock  for  months.  Thirteen 


64  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

bronzed,  active,  muscular  young  sailors  on  liberty 
—  thirteen  unleashed  terriers  —  were  invading  a 
quiet  country  town. 

At  the  station,  while  waiting  for  the  train, 
Dick  had  his  first  misgivings.  Kerrigan  would 
borrow  a  dollar  of  him  and  treat  the  crowd, 
and  being  denied  the  pleasure,  threatened  to 
"shake  him,"  and  only  changed  his  mind  when 
he  was  sternly  directed  by  Dick  to  "  clear  out." 
Then  Dick  delivered  a  short  lecture  in  the  sta 
tion  on  the  wisdom  of  temperance,  and  ad 
vised  those  who  would  not  take  orders  from 
him  and  submit  to  his  management  of  the  job, 
to  stay  behind.  He  would  much  rather  go 
home  alone,  he  said,  as  he  left  town  with  a  good 
reputation,  and  was  a  little  ashamed  of  the  com 
pany  he  was  now  in.  This,  with  Dick's  known 
superior  education  and  habitual  correctness  of 
speech,  impressed  them.  They  reproved  Ker 
rigan,  and  vowing  good  conduct  and  obedience, 
passed  through  the  gate  and  boarded  the  train, 
which,  at  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  landed  them 
at  Allville. 

The  first  thing,  of  course,  was  something  to  eat, 
and  Dick  marshalled  them  across  the  street  and 
into  the  dining  room  of  what  had  been  the  All 
ville  House,  but  now,  with  a  new  coat  of  paint 
and  larger  sign  and  barroom,  was  the  Hotel  Morri- 
sey.  "  Dinner  for  thirteen,"  he  ordered  of  a  waiter 


THE   AGE   OF   IKON  65 

as  they  seated  themselves,  "  and  bring  me  the  bill 
in  advance." 

"  Now,  boys,"  he  said,  as  he  pocketed  the  change, 
"I  shall  hurry  through  and  find  the  lay  of  the 
land,  while  you  wait  here.  Understand  me  —  no 
drinking ;  you've  got  no  money,  but  you  might  be 
treated.  Take  cigars." 

They  said  they  would.  Dick  bolted  his  dinner 
and  hurried  out,  passing  in  the  door  a  red-faced 
man  in  an  alpaca  coat  and  immaculate  shirt-front. 
This  man  looked  after  him  as  though  he  would 
have  spoken,  then,  spying  the  party  at  the  table, 

bounded  toward  them. 

t 


CHAPTER  XII 

DICK  passed  into  the  business  street  of  the 
town,  where  familiar  faces  peered  at  him. 
But  none  recognized  in  the  bare-throated,  sun 
burned  sailor,  swinging  along  with  a  man's  vigor 
ous  stride,  the  under-sized,  freckled  schoolboy  who 
had  disappeared  under  a  cloud.  On  his  part,  he 
did  not  care  to  make  himself  known.  There  were 
changes,  —  a  trolley  line  had  been  established,  and 
new  buildings  replaced  some  that  he  remembered. 
The  town  had  become  a  city ;  a  new  city  hall 
arose  from  the  park,  with  a  police  station  on 
the  lower  floor;  a  bright-fronted  theatre  faced 
the  park  on  a  side  street,  and  next  it  was  a  Sal 
vation  Army  barracks,  while  a  red  brick  building, 
with  blue-shirted  men  lounging  in  the  open  door 
way,  through  which  could  be  seen  a  fire  engine  and 
hose-cart,  testified  further  to  the  prosperity  of  the 
town.  These  changes  pained  him.  It  was  no 
home-coming  to  Dick ;  he  had  loved  the  scenes  of 
his  boyhood. 

"  Ought  to  see  Aunt  Mollie  first,"  he  mused,  as 
he  reached  the  resident  portion  ;  "  but  I  won't  — 
not  till  evening.  She'd  keep  me  too  long.  Here's 
Bessie's  street — if  she  still  lives  there." 


THE   AGE   OF   IRON  67 

He  was  in  a  side  street,  and  soon  reached  one  of 
a  row  of  Queen  Anne  cottages  —  the  kind  which 
dominates  all  others  in  the  suburbs  of  American 
cities.  There  was  a  brighter,  more  cared-for  look 
to  all  of  them  than  there  had  been,  and  especially 
did  the  one  before  him  indicate  the  prosperity  of 
its  owner.  The  fence  had  been  removed,  flower 
beds  had  been  laid  out  on  the  lawns,  showing 
here  and  there  with  the  dead  grass  through  shal 
low  snow-banks,  while  from  within  came  the  sound 
of  piano  music  —  improvised  chords  in  minor. 

"  Bessie  had  no  piano,"  he  said  ;  "  but  she  liked 
music.  Wonder  if  the  old  man's  made  his  pile. 
I'll  see." 

He  mounted  the  steps,  opened  the  door  of  a 
storm-house,  and  touched  a  button  inside.  "  Elec 
tric  bells,"  he  muttered. 

The  music  ceased  and  was  followed  by  the  patter 
of  light  feet ;  then  the  door  swung  open  and  a 
young  lady  was  facing  him  —  a  fluffy-haired  crea 
ture  with  pink-and-white  cheeks,  who  looked  at 
him  with  wide-open,  surprised  eyes. 

"  Hello,  Bessie,"  he  said  cheerily  ;  "  how  are 
you  ?  I've  come  —  why,  Bessie,  don't  you  know 
me?" 

"I  —  really  —  "  she  began  doubtfully,  while  she 
drew  back  into  the  hallway,  "I  —  why,  Dick  — 
Dick  Halpin  —  where  did  you  come  from  ? " 

She  advanced  with  a  smile  of  genuine  welcome 


68  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

in  her  face,  and  extended  her  hand.  Then  she 
invited  him  in  and  seated  him  in  a  corner  of  the 
parlour  and  herself  in  another,  where  she  studied 
his  face,  with  a  half-smiling,  half-nervous  expect 
ancy  on  her  own. 

"  Anna  is  at  school  to-day,"  she  said  at  last,  "  and 
mamma  is  down  town.  They'll  be  home  soon; 
they'll  be  glad  to  see  you." 

"All  right.  Now,  Bessie,  tell  me  the  news. 
"What's  happened  ?  Going  to  school  yet  ? " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  demurely.  "  But  I'm  home 
to-day  because  I  expect  —  I  expected  company. 
Your  class  graduates  in  a  few  days,  and  they  will 
have  their  commencement  exercises  in  the  new 
theatre." 

"  Entertainment  —  oratory  —  singing  —  and  all 
that?" 

"  Yes,  and  Will  Simpson,  you  know  —  you  re 
member  him  —  is  valedictorian." 

"  He  is,  eh  —  um-humph.  Where's  Tom  Allen 
now,  Bessie  ?  At  school  ? " 

"  Yes ;  he  graduates  too." 

"  Tom  Brandes  and  Ned  Brown  ? " 

"  Graduates.  But  why,  what's  the  matter  with 
them?" 

"  One  more,  Bessie,  please.  Where's  Pig  Jones  ? " 

"  Ran  away  from  home,  and  nobody  knows 
where  he  went." 

"  Good  —  thank  you,  Bessie.     You're  a  brick  — 


THE   AGE   OF  IRON  69 

you're  a  full-powered  newspaper  —  and,  oh,  by  the 
way,  where's  young  Arthur  ?  " 

"Didn't  you  hear?  He  went  to  the  Naval 
Academy  over  three  years  ago.  He  was  sent  to 
a  preparatory  school  just  after  you  left." 

Dick  whistled  softly. 

"  And  some  time  I'll  have  to  take  orders  from 
that,"  he  muttered. 

"  I'm  really  grateful,  Bessie,"  he  continued  seri 
ously  as  he  arose  to  go.  "  I  came  only  on  busi 
ness,  and  you've  helped  me  tremendously." 

"  You  came  on  business,"  she  queried,  "  and 
have  catechised  me  as  you  pleased,  but  you've  told 
me  nothing  of  yourself.  Where  have  you  been 
all  these  years  ?  Did  you  bring  any  message  ? " 

"  Message  —  no,  Bessie,  who  from  ?  I  wanted 
to  see  you." 

Without  knowing  why,  Dick  saw  that  she  was 
immensely  relieved;  she  smilingly  invited  him  to 
sit  down  again. 

"I'm  in  a  hurry  now,  Bessie,"  he  answered. 
"  But  I'll  call  again  this  evening." 

"I  haven't  invited  you  to  call  this  evening." 
His  face  straightened  a  little.  She  saw  it  and  said 
gently,  "  You  see  I  have  an  engagement." 

"Oh,  all  right;  I'll  hunt  another  sweetheart." 

"  Yes;  then  try  Mabel  again,"  she  said  sweetly. 
"  She's  a  lovely  girl  now.  Nothing  like  what  she 
was  when  —  when  she  wasn't  worth  powder  to 
blow  her  up." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

DICK'S  faced  flamed.  He  had  resolutely  put 
Mabel  from  his  mind,  and  even  the  mention 
and  thought  of  her  brother  bore  no  relation  to  the 
memory  he  cherished  of  his  boyish  regard  for  her. 
He  would  not  have  spoken  of  her ;  but  Bessie  had 
broken  his  guard,  and  with  the  sound  of  her  name 
came  an  eager  desire  to  hear  of  her,  which  con 
trasted  painfully  with  his  humiliation;  for  how 
could  Bessie  quote  from  his  letter  if  it  had  not 
become  public  property  ? 

" So  she  showed  you  that,  did  she?"  he  said  at 
last. 

"  No,  she  did  not,"  said  Bessie  from  the  depths 
of  a  sofa,  where  she  had  collapsed  in  her  laughter. 
"But  as  my  most  intimate  friend,  she  quoted  to 
me  your  opinion  of  her.  Oh,  '  I  loved  you,  and  you 
are  not  worth  powder  to  blow  you  up.' "  And 
Bessie  was  again  overcome. 

"Well,  have  it  out  with  yourself,  Bessie,"  he 
said  painfully ;  "  and  then  tell  me.  How  is  she  ? 
I  haven't  heard  of  her  since  I  left." 

Bessie  arose  and  laughed  no  more.  His  face 
forbade  it;  but  she  was  still  woman  enough  to 

tease  him. 

70 


THE   AGE   OP  IRON  71 

"  She  is  very  well,  I  believe,  and  at  home  now. 
I  may  see  her  to-morrow.  "Would  you  like  to  send 
a  message  by  me  ?  No  ?  Well,  I  shall  say  that 
I've  seen  you,  anyway.  She  would  be  delighted 
to  meet  you  again,  I  know. 

"Of  course,"  the  girl  went  on  with  feminine 
maliciousness,  "  Mabel  is  enormously  popular.  She 
came  out  last  year,  and  she  has  lawyers,  doctors, 
literary  men,  artists,  well  —  all  kinds  of  men,  in 
her  train,  with  a  few  millionaires  thrown  in." 

"  And  she,"  he  began  awkwardly. 

"She  —  well,"  purred  Bessie,  "there  is  Mr. 
Breen,  of  the  navy  —  have  you  met  him  ? " 

"  Breen  —  Ensign  Breen  ?  "  repeated  Dick. 

"  Yes,  Ensign  Breen.  She  met  him  before  her 
debut,  and  his  chance  should  be  good.  He  is  a 
sailor.  Her  first  love  letter  came  from  a  sailor, 
and  he  will  get  the  reflected  benefit." 

For  the  purpose  of  further  tormenting  him, 
Bessie  had  said  too  much.  Dick  knew  the  pay 
and  marriage  value  of  an  ensign,  aside  from  the 
element  of  love,  which  would  have  reached  a  defi 
nite  point  in  less  than  two  seasons.  This  had 
flashed  through  his  brain  without  process  of  rea 
son.  But  what  hardened  him  was  the  following 
thought  —  that  of  the  vast  social  gulf  between 
himself  and  the  ensign,  between  a  sailor  before 
the  mast  and  a  commissioned  officer. 

"Bessie,"   he  said   with  a  mock   courtesy  and 


72  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

recklessness  born  of  his  conflicting  emotions,  "  were 
I  worthy,  I  should  extend  through  you  my  con 
gratulations  to  Miss  Arthur  on  her  conquest. 
Were  I  in  a  position  to  advise,  I  should  caution 
her  to  beware  of  naval  officers  —  especially  ensigns. 
They  do  not  earn  as  much  as  the  ship's  cook,  and 
their  wives  take  in  washing  to  clothe  them." 

"  Why,  you  cannot  mean  it,"  said  the  astonished 
girl.  "  Mr.  Breen  is  an  ensign,  and  I  know  —  " 

"  Ensign  Breen,"  said  Dick  with  fine  anarchistic 
scorn.  "Ensign  Breen,  of  the  Vermont.  Why, 
Breen  killed  a  Kanaka  woman  with  hasheesh 
in  the  Straits  of  Sunda  last  cruise  but  one. 
Got  a  wife  in  'Fr'isco,  two  in  Antwerp,  and  a 
whole  harem  in  the  Sandwich  Islands.  Got 
knifed  in  Bio  for  running  a  dual  establishment ; 
and  he  pays  alimony  in  four  towns  on  this  coast, 
and  —  " 

"  I  don't  believe  a  single  word  you  say." 

She  had  grown  an  inch  taller.  Her  eyes  were 
snapping  and  her  finger-nails  were  buried  in  the 
palms  of  her  hands,  while  her  cheeks,  but  for  two 
little  red  spots  which  came  and  went,  were  white. 

"  Fact,  Bessie  —  why,  what's  the  matter  ? " 

She  threw  herself  on  the  sofa  and  buried  her 
face  in  the  pillow. 

"  What's  the  trouble,  Bessie  ? "  he  asked.  Then, 
dimly  realizing  the  truth,  he  began  to  explain. 

"  I  was  only  joking ;  it  was  all  a  string  of  lies. 


THE   AGE   OP  IRON  73 

Didn't  think  what  I  was  saying,  Bessie  —  honest. 
Don't  cry  any  more,  now.  I'm  sorry.  I  wouldn't 
make  you  cry  for  anything.  Mr.  Breen's  a  good 
fellow  —  one  of  the  best.  He's  my  officer." 

"  There  must  be  something,"  she  sobbed ; 
"  you  would  not  dare  say  such  things  unless  you 
knew." 

"You  mean  that  where  there's  smoke  there's 
fire,  Bessie?  It's  all  smoke,  every  bit.  You 
stirred  me  up,  and  I  didn't  care  what  I  said." 

She  sat  up  and  dried  her  eyes,  while  he  sang  the 
praises  of  Ensign  Breen,  ascribing  virtues  to  him 
that  would  have  astonished  the  young  officer  had 
he  heard.  But  Dick,  with  a  sore  heart  of  his  own, 
felt  a  large  and  generous  sympathy  for  other  ach 
ing  hearts,  and  an  especial  interest  in  Bessie,  his 
only  friend  in  the  old  trouble,  who  evidently  loved 
this  man.  She  listened  quietly  —  eagerly  —  and 
at  last  smilingly. 

"  I  must  go,  Bessie,"  he  said,  when  he  felt  that 
he  had  undone  the  harm  of  his  thoughtless  words. 
"  Mr.  Breen  and  I  will  go  out  in  the  New  York. 
If  you  like,  I'll  write  you  occasionally,  and  give 
you  the  news.  Will  you  answer  a  letter  now  and 
then  ? " 

"Why,  of  course,"  said  the  subdued  girl;  "I 
shall  be  glad  to  hear  from  you  and  glad  to  write 
to  you."  And  perhaps  each  knew,  without  fur 
ther  compact,  the  kind  of  news  expected  of  the 


74  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

other.  Dick  secured  his  cap  and  they  stepped  into 
the  hall. 

"  Promise  me,"  she  said,  as  she  opened  the  inner 
door  for  him,  "that  you  will  not  speak  of  —  this 
—  to  Mabel,  or  —  to  Mr.  Breen." 

"  Of  course  I  won't,  Bessie.  Officers  don't 
exchange  confidences  with  blue-jackets,  and  as 
for  the  other  —  we're  not  acquainted.  Good-by, 
Bessie ;  I'll  write." 

"  Good-by,  Dick." 

Her  pretty  face,  with  its  pleading  look  not  yet 
supplanted  by  the  coming  smile,  was  close  to  him. 
Obeying  an  impulse,  he  suddenly  passed  his  arm 
around  her  waist. 

"  Don't,  please  don't ! "  she  cried  as  she  endeav 
oured  to  escape ;  then,  helpless  in  his  strong  grasp, 
she  remained  passive,  while  he  kissed  her.  When 
he  looked  up  he  stared  into  the  startled  face  of 
Ensign  Breen,  who,  in  citizen's  clothes  —  high  hat, 
silk-faced  top-coat,  and  all  —  was  standing  in  the 
outer  door.  Dick  confusedly  knuckled  his  fore 
head,  —  his  cap  was  on  the  floor,  —  but  the  officer 
ignored  him. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Fleming,"  said  Mr. 
Breen  as  he  lifted  his  hat,  "  but  the  bell  was  inside, 
and  I  opened  the  outer  door.  I  am  very  sorry. 
Good  afternoon." 

He  turned  and  was  gone  before  she  could  reply. 
Bessie  sank  into  a  hall  chair. 


THE  AGE  OF   IRON  75 

"  Here's  a  pretty  mess,"  muttered  Dick.  "  Bes 
sie,  I'm  sorry,  honest,  I  am  ;  who  would  have 
thought  he'd  have  shown  up?" 

"  I,"  she  said,  rising  and  pointing  to  the  door. 
"I  expected  him.  You  do  not  know  the  harm 
you  have  done.  Go,  and  do  not  come  back.  Do 
not  write  to  me  or  ever  speak  to  me  again.  I 
hate  you." 

"  Well,  all  right,"  he  answered  humbly,  picking 
up  his  cap ;  "  I'm  sorry,  Bessie  —  that's  all  I  can 
say." 

But  she  had  entered  the  parlour.  He  opened  the 
door  and  passed  out,  with  an  opinion  of  himself 
that  he  had  never  held  before.  Down  the  street, 
just  turning  the  corner,  was  Mr.  Breen,  stepping 
briskly  along  with  the  erect,  graceful  carriage  that, 
somehow,  is  never  acquired  but  at  Annapolis  and 
on  American  quarter-decks. 

"  Going  around  to  call  on  her,  I'll  bet,"  he 
growled. 

Humiliated  and  self-reproachful,  burning  with 
jealous  curiosity,  his  moral  fibre  somewhat  weak 
ened,  he  did  what  at  other  times  he  would  not 
have  done.  He  followed  the  ensign  and  saw  him 
mount  the  steps  of  the  large  house  he  remem 
bered  so  well.  Then,  in  a  mood  which  unfitted 
him  for  even  his  own  company,  he  went  down  to 
the  hotel. 


CHAPTEK   XIV 

DICK  found  his  men  in  the  barroom,  noisy 
and  talkative,  surrounded  by  an  admiring 
crowd  of  villagers.  One  glance  told  him  the 
situation. 

"  Hooray  here,  Dick,  me  lad,"  called  the  red- 
faced  man  behind  the  bar.  "  I  know  ye  by  repu 
tation.  Yer  Ned  Bronson's  best  lad,  and  I'm  his 
best  friend.  Step  up  here,  Dick,  and  have  one  wid 
me." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Dick,  savagely ;  "  I'm  not 
drinking ; "  and  then,  to  the  others,  "  I  don't  need 
you  —  not  a  blasted  one  of  you.  Breen's  in  town 
—  I've  just  seen  him.  Do  you  want  to  go  in  the 
brig?" 

"It's  all  right,  Dick,"  they  protested.  "We 
had  just  one  apiece.  That  hurts  no  one.  This  is 
Morrisey's  place  —  " 

"  As  many  as  can  toe  a  line,"  interrupted  Dick, 
"  I'll  use  —  no  more.  Fall  in." 

They  formed  a  line,  every  pair  of  toes  just  touch 
ing  a  crack  in  the  floor. 

"Count  fours,"  called  Dick.  "One,"  said  the 
first ;  the  next  called  two,  the  next  three,  the  next 
four ;  then  they  began  at  one,  until  the  groups  of 

fours  were  numbered. 

76 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  77 

"Twos  right  —  inarch!  "  he  called,  and  as  they 
formed  double  column  and  marched  through  the 
door,  Morrisey  whooped  and  ran  for  his  coat  and 
hat.  Dick  saw,  by  the  clock  over  the  new  city 
hall,  that  he  had  fifteen  minutes  to  spare  before 
the  closing  bell  of  the  school  would  ring,  and  as 
this  time  was  ample,  he  marched  his  guard  by 
roundabout  streets,  so  as  to  avoid  a  possible  meet 
ing  with  Mr.  Breen.  It  was  a  new  spectacle  in 
the  town,  and  soon  the  sidewalks  on  both  sides 
in  the  rear  were  crowded  with  a  growing  throng 
of  boys  and  a  few  men  and  girls.  Over  the  heads 
of  those  just  behind  the  parade  loomed  the  stove 
pipe  hat  and  joyful  red  face  of  Morrisey.  Dick, 
sullenly  conscious  of  the  interest  they  had  aroused, 
muttered  :  "  Might  as  well  have  brought  a  brass 
band  as  this  gang ;  but  I'll  carry  it  through  if  we 
have  to  clean  up  the  town." 

On  the  next  street  was  the  school.  Dick 
wheeled  them  around  the  corner,  halting  them  in 
open  order,  a  file  on  each  side,  with  himself  at  the 
head.  Opposite  was  the  ball-ground ;  he  could  see 
the  tree  under  which  he  had  been  mobbed ;  and 
across  the  years  of  his  wandering  at  sea  came  to 
his  mind  in  all  its  early  force  the  wrong  and  the 
rage  of  that  last'  day,  softened  only  by  the  warm 
heartedness  of  Bessie.  Not  even  his  regret  for 
his  treatment  of  her  now  availed  to  stem  or 
relieve  the  overflow  of  latent  fury  which  the 


78  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

scenes  of  his  humiliation  and  disgrace  set  free. 
He  wished  that  Mr.  Clark,  who  had  branded  him 
as  a  thief,  would  come  out  and  interfere.  He 
wished  that  George  Arthur  could  be  there,  to 
receive  his  undivided  attention  for  only  a  minute, 
and — yes,  that  his  sister,  who  believed  him  a 
thief,  could  be  there  to  witness.  And  as  for  the 
townspeople  behind,  if  they  interfered  —  well,  he 
had  twelve  "  mulligans  "  to  attend  to  them. 

The  bell  in  the  cupola  above  clanged  its  dozen 
strokes  and  ceased.  Then  the  same  old  janitor  of 
four  years  back  emerged  from  the  basement  stairs 
at  the  side  and  threw  open  the  doors  of  the  girls' 
entrance.  With  a  curious  glance  at  the  two  lines 
of  blue,  he  passed  along  and  opened  the  entrance 
for  the  boys.  In  a  few  minutes,  laughing,  shout 
ing  youngsters  of  both  sexes  —  the  junior  depart 
ment —  emerged  and  hovered  near  the  sailors, 
curiosity  silencing  their  noise.  Next  came  the 
senior  department,  boys  of  between  thirteen  and 
sixteen,  and  pretty,  graceful  girls,  most  of  whom 
Dick  remembered  as  "  young  uns "  in  knicker 
bockers  and  short  dresses.  They  passed  through 
and  around  the  waiting  blue-jackets  with  curiosity 
scarcely  less  than  that  of  the  juniors,  and  halted 
with  the  spectators  beyond.  Then  appeared  the 
high  school  scholars  —  ladylike  young  girls  and 
well-dressed  young  men,  who  paired  off,  here  and 
there,  and  stepped  briskly  down  toward  the  gaunt- 


THE   AGE   OF   IRON  79 

let.  They  were  closely  scrutinized  by  Dick  as 
they  passed,  but  none  recognized  in  the  young 
man  at  the  head  of  the  lines  the  schoolmate  of 
the  past.  It  was  for  him  to  make  himself  known. 
He  placed  himself  before  a  heavily-built  young 
gentleman,  in  gloves  and  buttoned  overcoat, 
whose  full  mustache  had  almost  disguised  him. 
"Stop,"  he  said  in  a  voice  that  was  almost  a 
snarl.  "You're  Tom  Allen,  aren't  you?  Yes  — 
Tom  Allen.  Know  me  ?  No  ?  You  don't  know 
me.  I'm  the  thief  and  the  telltale.  I'm  Dick 
Halpin.  I'm  here  to  repeat  what  I  told  you  once 
before  —  over  there  on  the  ball-ground.  Tom 
Allen,  you  —  are  —  a  —  liar." 


CHAPTEK   XV 

"-YTTTHA  — what?  Eh.  Hello,  Dick.  Didn't 
V  T  know  you.  "When  d'you  get  back  ? " 
said  Tom,  too  surprised  to  comprehend  Dick's 
attitude. 

"  That's  not  the  question,"  answered  Dick.  He 
stooped  and  picked  up  a  sliver  of  wood  from  the 
sidewalk,  which  he  balanced  on  Tom's  shoulder. 
Then  he  knocked  it  off,  and  as  Tom  smiled 
weakly  and  placidly  at  the  declaration  of  war,  he 
struck  him  in  the  face.  Tom  understood ;  his  lip 
was  cut  and  his  nose  bleeding. 

"Let  me  alone,"  he  whined,  but  Dick  sprang 
behind  him,  struck  out  again  with  all  his  strength, 
and  Tom  staggered  toward  the  line  of  blue-jackets. 

"Pass  him  through,"  called  Dick;  "he's  had 
enough." 

"With  yells  and  laughter  they  passed  him 
through.  Tom,  in  a  state  of  unstable  equilibrium, 
chasse'd  down  the  line,  kept  from  falling  by  the 
alternate  blows  he  received  from  each  side. 
Before  he  had  received  the  last  and  floundered  to 
the  sidewalk  beyond,  Dick,  realizing  the  magni 
tude  of  the  task  he  had  set  for  himself,  bounded 
toward  the  waiting  group  at  the  gate. 

80 


THE   AGE   OF   IRON  81 

Confronting  him  was  the  stern-faced  Mr.  Clark, 
his  old  teacher. 

"Is  this  you,  Eichard  Halpin?"  he  said  men 
acingly.  "Stop  this  at  once,  or  I  shall  send  for 
the  police." 

"Yes,  Mr.  Clark,"  answered  Dick;  "and  as 
you're  too  old  for  me,  I  advise  you  to  keep  out. 
I've  started  to  lick  the  gang  that  licked  me,  and 
I'll  do  it,  too.  And  if  you  call  your  police,  they'll 
get  hurt  — that's  all." 

"He  won't  lick  me,"  said  a  tall,  broad-shoul 
dered' and  well-dressed  young  man,  who  stepped 
to  Mr.  Clark's  side.  It  was  Will  Simpson,  the 
boy  who,  at  sixteen,  had  thrashed  a  man ;  and  he 
was  removing  his  outer  garments.  Dick,  with 
wide-open  eyes,  waited  until  he  had  hung  them 
over  the  fence,  then  asked,  "  Ready  ? " 

"  Yes  —  ready  ;  always  ready,"  answered  "Will, 
dryly  and  composedly,  bringing  his  two  big  fists 
to  position. 

But  before  they  were  quite  in  position  —  almost 
before  the  last  word  had  left  his  lips  —  Dick  had 
planted  both  fists  between  his  eyes.  Will  stag 
gered  against  the  fence,  recovered  and  advanced 
angrily.  But  the  strength  and  skill  that  had 
made  him  a  village  champion  were  of  no  avail 
before  Dick  Halpin  —  a  seaman  apprentice  of  the 
navy.  Shameful  and  bitter  before  his  school 
mates  was  his  punishment,  as  Dick,  unhurt  by  his 


82  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

lunging  strokes,  danced  around  him,  and  at  last, 
when  he  made  a  wild  rush,  sent  him  to  earth. 

"  Any  more  ? "  cried  Dick,  in  an  abandon  of 
recklessness.  "Webster — Scanlon.  Here — take 
care  of  this  one  in  case  he  wants  more." 

These  two  advanced,  lifted  the  demoralized  Will 
Simpson  to  his  feet  and  escorted  him  to  the  ranks. 
Dick,  with  flashing  eyes  and  dilating  nostrils,  the 
battle-fever  in  his  soul,  pushed  through  the  scat 
tering,  agitated  group  at  the  gate  and  caromed 
into  a  white-haired  old  gentleman  whom  he  knew 
as  the  high  school  principal,  but  who  had  no 
knowledge,  past  or  present,  of  Dick. 

"  Stand  clear,  sir,"  he  cried  to  the  shocked  old 
gentleman;  "I'm  reforming  your  school."  He 
brushed  past  him.  "  Ned  Brown,  Tom  Brandes," 
he  muttered.  "  Are  they  here  ? " 

Up  the  street,  toward  the  country  road,  was  a 
group  —  scholars  of  both  sexes,  and  among  them, 
as  he  looked,  Dick  recognized  the  faces  of  the  two 
he  had  named  —  tall  young  fellows  who  had  the 
appearance  of  being  able  to  run.  He  could  catch 
one,  but  not  the  other.  Turning  the  other  way 
he  beheld  Mr.  Clark  and  the  high  school  princi 
pal  hurrying  past  his  shipmates.  An  indignant 
crowd  surrounded  the  sailors,  and  down  the  street 
—  two  blocks  away  —  were  three  policemen,  with 
drawn  clubs,  coming  on  a  run.  Dick  grasped  the 
situation  at  a  glance.  "  Devlin  —  Kerrigan,"  he 


THE   AGE   OP   IRON  83 

called,  "  come  here.  Look  out  for  the  cops  behind 
you,  boys.  Clear  out.  Turn  those  fellows  loose 
and  muster  at  the  station  at  six." 

Devlin  and  Kerrigan  arrived.  They  were  joy 
ful  of  soul,  and  possessed,  besides,  the  additional 
qualification  of  good  records  in  the  Cob-dock 
footraces. 

"  Boys,"  said  Dick,  as  he  pointed  up  the  street, 
"see  that  long-geared  fellow  in  the  derby  hat 
and  short  overcoat,  near  the  tree?  That's  Ned 
Brown.  Get  him.  He'll  run,  but  get  him.  If 
he  wants  to  see  me,  bring  him  to  that  tree  over 
there.  If  he  don't,  tap  him  once  for  me  and 
meet  us  at  the  station  —  six  o'clock.  Under 
stand  ?  No  mistake,  now.  I'll  get  my  man,  and 
that'll  finish  up.  Hurrah,  now.  Come  on." 

Away  they  went  on  a  keen  run,  and  the  boys 
ahead  of  them  scattered.  Dick  had  chosen  Tom 
Brandes,  who  waited  for  him  behind  a  tree  across 
the  street,  then,  dodging  as  he  was  about  to  seize 
him,  sped  diagonally  across  the  ball-ground  toward 
the  side  streets  and  his  home.  He  was  speedy, 
and  Dick  settled  down  to  a  long  chase. 


CHAPTER   XVI 


Y 


like  ?  Is  he  doing  well  ?  You  have  been 
here  two  hours  and  only  just  tell  me." 

"  He  is  doing  very  well,"  said  Mr.  Breen,  dryly ; 
"  very  well  indeed.  And  not  the  least  in  retain 
ing  your  interest  so  long.  Let's  see  ;  how  many 
years  have  sadly  flown  ? " 

"Please  be  serious,"  Mabel  Arthur  answered, 
with  a  hint  of  colour  in  her  face ;  "  I  ought  to 
explain.  I  feel  responsible  for  his  leaving  home 
and  school.  We  were  only  children,  of  course. 
He  left  under  a  cloud,  and  Bessie  has  always  said 
that  if  he  went  to  the  bad  it  would  be  my  fault." 

In  any  face  but  that  of  Ensign  John  Breen,  the 
expression  might  have  been  a  sneer ;  in  his  it  was 
but  a  lukewarm  smile. 

"  And  Bessie  is  interested  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Of  course ;  why,  she  believed  in  him  when  I 
did  not.  Later,  it  all  came  out.  He  was  accused, 
unjustly,  of  stealing,  and  expelled  from  school. 
His  uncle  turned  him  out,  and  he  went  away.  I 
have  never  heard  from  him  since.  I  hope  he  is 
successful." 

"He  is.    He  is  a  seaman-gunner  of  the  navy, 
84 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  85 

now  in  the  Vermont  with  me.  He  is  one  of  the 
finest  products  of  the  apprentice  system  that  I've 
seen  —  tall,  athletic,  refined  in  speech  —  educated, 
I'm  told,  almost  to  the  requirements  of  a  commis 
sion  —  handsome  in  a  way,  and  a  favourite  with  all 
hands  —  and  the  ladies." 

"I'm  so  glad  ;  and  where  is  he  now  —  in  Ver 
mont,  did  you  say  ? " 

"On  board  the  receiving-ship  Vermont;  but  in 
town  to-day." 

"  In  town  ?    Here  —  in  Allville  ? " 

"I  saw  him  two  minutes  before  I  called.  He 
must  have  come  up  on  the  train  ahead  of  me." 

"Why  didn't  you  bring  him  with  you?  You 
know  I  would  like  to  see  him." 

"  You  forget  that  it  is  two  years  or  more  since 
you  expressed  the  desire ;  besides,  I  doubt  that  a 
sailor  would  care  to  make  social  visits  with  an 
officer." 

"I  understand  the  sarcasm;  but  I  do  want  to 
see  him.  Where  was  he  ? " 

"  He  was  very  pleasantly  occupied.  Had  I  been 
enjoying  myself  so  thoroughly,  I  would  hardly 
have  come  on  the  instant  —  even  had  you  sent  for 
me." 

She  looked  searchingly  at  him,  with  inquiry  in 
her  face ;  and,  after  a  moment's  musing,  she  said, 
"But  do  you  think  you  could  induce  him  to  —  " 

"  You  would  have  me  hunt  him  up,  and  extend 


86  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

your  invitation  ?  I  will  do  so,  provided  he  is  on 
the  street."  He  arose  as  he  spoke,  and  the  lines 
of  his  face  hardened  a  little. 

"  No,  no,  I  was  thoughtless.  You  are  an  officer 
—  he  is  a  sailor." 

"  I  am  not  in  uniform." 

"  No  —  sit  down  again.  It  would  grate  and 
harrow  your  very  soul.  Men  may  forgive  any 
thing  but  a  humiliation.  I  will  write  to  him." 

"  I  should  think,"  he  said  dryly,  as  he  seated 
himself,  "  that  a  letter  would  answer  every 
purpose." 

"  Sometimes  I  hate  myself,"  she  said  slowly,  as 
she  studied  the  carpet.  "  Do  you  know  what  I 
did  ?  When  he  was  disgraced  and  expelled  ?  He 
stood  outside  when  school  let  out,  and  he  looked 
as  if  he  had  not  a  friend  in  the  world ;  and  every 
immaculate  one  of  us  snubbed  him  —  except  Bes 
sie.  I  shall  never  forget  the  look  in  his  face  when 
I  passed  him."  There  were  decided  tears  in  her 
eyes  now,  and  all  that  Mr.  Breen  could  say,  in  a 
rather  strained  accent  of  voice,  was,  "  Bessie  has 
a  good  heart  —  a  big,  generous  heart." 

"Indeed  she  has.  And  she  was  so  indignant 
when  she  learned  it  all.  It  was  a  year  later,  for 
I  went  away  to  boarding-school,  and  we  did  not 
become  friends  until  I  got  back.  Neither  of  us 
knew  at  the  time  all  that  had  happened.  Why, 
there  were  five  boys,  all  larger  than  he,  who  set 


THE   AGE   OF   IRON  87 

upon  him,  and  kicked  him  almost  unconscious; 
and  he  was  brave,  and  fought  them ;  but  there 
were  so  many  —  the  great  —  big  —  brutes.  Poor 
little  Dick!" 

"  Poor  little  Dick,"  repeated  the  ensign.  "  Poor, 
big,  broad-shouldered,  iron-fisted,  quicker-than- 
chain-lightning,  able-seaman  Halpin.  I  wouldn't 
care  to  be  one  of  the  five  when  he  meets  them. 
The  other  day,  I  was  told,  he  lifted  Big  Billson  — 
two  hundred  pounds  —  right  off  his  feet  with  one 
blow.  He's  a  terror,  poor  little  Dick." 

She  turned  her  face  to  the  window,  as  if  to 
hide  the  inconsistent  smile  that  was  showing 
there.  Then,  with  an  exclamation  she  arose  to 
her  feet. 

"  Look !  look !  "  she  said. 

Mr.  Breen  reached  her  side  at  a  bound.  A  wild- 
eyed  youth  with  his  hat  in  his  hand  had  rushed 
around  the  corner  of  the  house  from  the  back 
yard,  pursued  by  another,  who  caught  him  at  the 
foot  of  the  front  steps. 

"There,"  said  the  ensign,  "there  is  your  poor 
little  boy ;  and  he  seems  to  be  upholding  his  later 
record." 

"Is  that  Dick  Halpin,  really?  Is  that  Dick? 
Oh,  isn't  he  changed  ?  Isn't  he  a  man !  But  what 
is  he  doing  ? " 

She  looked  with  startled  eyes  at  the  pair  out 
side.  They  were  both  panting,  and  one  cringed 


88  MASTERS   OP  MEN 

before  the  other,  who  stood  erect,  holding  him  by 
the  collar.  Their  voices  could  be  plainly  heard 
—  one  quavering  with  fear,  the  other  angry  and 
strong. 

"  You're  not  worth  it,  Tom  Brandes,"  Dick  was 
saying ;  "  but  to  finish  the  job,  you've  got  to  take 
it."  Tom  lowered  his  head,  but  the  fist  did  not 
fall.  Dick's  face  had  assumed  a  wondering,  puz 
zled  look  as  he  glanced  up  and  down  the  street, 
and  it  changed  to  one  of  certainty  when  his  eyes 
rested  on  the  front  of  the  house  and  the  two  fig 
ures  in  the  window.  His  grip  loosened  on  Tom's 
collar;  the  young  man  shook  himself  free,  and 
fled  through  the  gate,  while  Dick,  with  his  flushed 
face  a  shade  redder,  and  an  almost  defiant  light 
in  his  eyes,  drew  himself  to  full  height  and  brought 
his  hand  to  his  cap  in  a  stiff  salute.  Then  he 
turned,  passed  through  the  gate,  following  Tom 
down  the  street  at  a  walk.  The  ensign  had  an 
swered  the  salute,  but  Mabel  had  inclined  her 
head  and  smiled  before  it  was  given. 

"  "Was  that  one  of  the  five  ? "  asked  tho  ensign, 
cautiously.  She  had  left  the  window  and  seated 
herself  in  a  chair. 

"  Yes ;  I  know  them  all." 

"  Let  me  try  to  explain,"  he  said  gently ;  "  he 
might  have  removed  his  cap,  of  course,  to  a  lady ; 
but  I  think  he  was  embarrassed,  and  on  the  spur 
of  the  moment  answered  with  the  service  salute." 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  89 

"  He  saluted  you ;  he  would  not  look  at  me.  I 
deserve  it,  I  know ;  but  I  would  have  explained  — 
I  would  have  apologized.  It  was  due  him.  Now, 
how  can  I  ? " 

"  Explain  through  Bessie  —  whatever  it  is.  They 
must  be  very  good  friends.  He  visited  there 
to-day.  I  saw  him  —  on  my  way  here." 

"  At  her  house,"  she  exclaimed,  standing  erect ; 
"then  that  is  why  —  what  she  meant  —  she 
expected  company — she  could  not  come  over 
to-day." 

As  an  officer  and  a  gentleman  must  not  tell  all 
he  knows,  Mr.  Breen  may  be  excused  in  not 
naming  himself  as  the  company  expected.  It 
might  have  involved  explanations  of  the  shortness 
of  his  stay. 

"  She  must  have  known  all  about  him  —  all  this 
long  time,"  she  continued,  as  she  paced  the  floor. 
"It  is  the  deceit  —  the  deceit  that  hurts.  She 
was  always  talking  about  him.  And  she  never 
told  me.  I  could  not  deceive  her  so.  Explain 
through  her?  Not  I.  But  —  I  am  a  woman 
now,  and  it  is  due  myself  to  atone  for  the 
selfish  fault  of  a  child  —  in  the  only  way  that  is 
left  me.  You  see  him  often.  Will  you  say  to 
him  —  " 

"Pardon  me,"  he  interrupted.  "No,  I  cannot. 
I  can  have  nothing  but  official  relations  with  him. 
Oh,  I  would  like  to  be  a  blue-jacket,"  he  burst  out 


90  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

vehemently,  "a  nice  sailor-boy,  with  a  big  fist 
and  a  big  nerve  and  an  interesting  past." 

"Mr.  Breen,  what  do  you  mean?"  she  said 
slowly. 

"I  beg  your  pardon  —  really,  I  do,"  he  said, 
while  his  face  softened.  "I  ought  not  to  have 
spoken  so,  but,  you  see,  I  never  before  knew  a 
sailor  so  far  above  par.  I  believe  I'll  go;  and 
not  come  again  until  I  am  on  better  terms  with 
myself —  that  is,  if  I  may." 

"  You  will  stay  right  here  and  have  dinner  with 
us.  Father  will  be  home  in  a  few  minutes.  No, 
you  must  stay — I  insist.  If  you  like  you  may 
take  me  to  the  theatre  this  evening.  I  have 
tickets." 


CHAPTER  XYII 

THE  contractions  of  facial  muscles  known  as 
smiles,  grins,  sneers,  and  frowns  are  prompted 
by  emotions  varying  from  those  of  pleasure  to 
those  of  pain  and  anger.  Other  changes  of  feature, 
such  as  result  from  surprise,  grief,  or  fear,  though 
equally  distinctive,  have  not  been  denominated. 
A  few  of  them  are  duplicated  in  the  faces  of 
animals,  but  often  from  a  contradictory  cause.  A 
dog  and  a  hyena  will  grin,  and  the  latter  will 
laugh,  but  not  from  a  sense  of  humour ;  and  these 
apparent  inconsistencies  and  accidental  variations 
in  cause  and  effect  have  prevented  science  from 
classifying  the  relations  between  the  emotions  and 
the  muscles  as  an  exact  study.  In  spite  of  this 
difficulty,  however,  one  iconoclastic  reasoner  has 
attempted  to  trace  the  origin  of  the  smile  —  which 
alone  in  the  list  may  be  considered  a  human  attri 
bute —  by  a  backward  flight  to  the  days  when 
our  ancestors  hung  by  their  tails  to  the  limbs  of 
trees  and  were  as  dexterous  with  their  toes  as  with 
their  fingers,  when  the  first  law  of  Nature  was  in 
supreme  force,  and  the  struggle  for  existence  so 
bitter  as  to  exclude  all  pleasure  except  that  of 
eating  —  when,  other  things  being  equal,  the  indi- 

91 


92  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

vidual  who  first  got  his  or  her  mouth  open  was 
the  one  to  close  it  on  food.  Hence,  says  this 
reasoner,  arose  the  habit  of  opening  the  mouth  in 
good  time ;  and  the  habit,  coincident  in  perform 
ance  with  pleasure  or  its  anticipation,  has  descended 
through  the  ages,  and  has  produced,  through  evo 
lution,  the  smile. 

Think  of  this,  young  mother.  Your  baby, 
dimpling  under  your  caresses,  receives  the  impulse 
from  a  tailed  and  hairy  ancestor,  ravenously  part 
ing  two  rows  of  yellow  tushes  in  hungry  anticipa 
tion.  Young  man,  as  you  bask  in  the  radiant  joy 
and  tenderness  beaming  through  the  beauty  in 
your  sweetheart's  face,  remember  that  her  smile 
is  an  ancestral  trait  based  upon  the  empty  stom 
achs  of  her  progenitors.  Girls,  trust  him  not 
because  he  merely  smiles.  The  founders  of  his 
family  raced  and  fought  for  food,  and  survived 
the  struggle  because  their  mouths  were  large  and 
their  jaws  strong.  That  is  why  he  is  here  to-day, 
to  feel  pleasure  in  your  favour,  and  fondly  smile 
upon  you. 

The  iconoclastic  reasoner  may  escape  a  violent 
death,  but  he  deserves  to  linger  on  in  a  loveless, 
smileless  existence.  For,  with  his  logic,  he  would 
rob  us  of  the  sweetest  favour  of  the  gods,  human 
ity's  universal  flag-of-truce  —  welcome  index  of 
needful,  though  temporary,  armistice  in  the  never 
ending  warfare  of  individuals.  He  would  take 


THE   AGE   OF   IRON  93 

away  the  entrancing  mystery  of  the  dearest,  most 
delightful  of  all  life's  delusions,  —  the  smile  of 
woman,  —  which,  even  though  we  know  that  it  is 
often  a  masked  battery,  we  would  not  do  without. 
It  can  bless  us  or  blight  us,  but  we  are  free  agents 
with  power  of  volition.  We  may  accept  or  reject, 
risk  or  run ;  and  woman's  radiant  smile,  like  other 
radiant  energy,  decreases  in  force  as  the  square  of 
the  distance. 

JVlabel  Arthur  had  again  smiled  at  Dick,  and  the 
effect  was  revolutionary.  In  his  hard  masculine 
life  the  affections  had  not  been  largely  developed. 
A  warm  and  sincere  friendship  between  himself 
and  Bronson  had  found  expression  only  in  an 
absence  of  harsh  words  in  their  intercourse,  a 
careless  nod  or  cheery  joke  at  parting,  and  a  hearty 
handshake  when  they  met  again.  Toward  Bessie 
there  had  remained  a  kindly  feeling  of  gratitude, 
which  had  led  him  to  seek  her  —  for  further 
favours  —  on  coming  home.  His  weak-natured 
aunt  had  never  been  able  to  impress  him  strongly, 
and  he  stood  now,  as  in  his  childhood,  nearly  alone 
in  the  world.  It  was  due,  perhaps,  to  this  lack  of 
diverting  affections  that  the  boyish  admiration 
and  homage  inspired  by  Mabel,  as  a  school  miss, 
had  grown  latently  as  he  approached  manhood, 
into  a  feeling  of  intensity  past,  his  own  power  of 
analysis.  He  was  dimly  conscious  of  its  growth 
and  grip  on  his  soul  when  Bessie  had  teased  him, 


94  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

and  later  had  awakened  more  fully  to  a  con 
ception,  of  its  strength  when  he  had  seen  his 
officer  making  for  her  door.  Yet  his  consequent 
ill-humour  on  this  occasion  arose  from  a  jealousy 
which  he  might  have  classed  with  the  feeling 
often  aroused  in  him  when  he  had  looked  through 
a  skylight  at  the  ward-room  dinner  and  had  then 
gone  forward  to  a  salt-beef  ration.  But  the  sight 
of  her,  standing  at  the  window  in  all  her  beauty 
of  figure  and  face,  —  the  startled  dark  eyes  shining 
with  the  tears  of  the  moment  before,  the  crown 
of  glossy  hair,  the  tinted  cheek  and  full  white 
throat,  the  graceful  inclining  of  her  head  and 
shoulders,  and  the  tremulous,  tentative  parting 
of  her  lips  that  ripened,  as  he  looked,  to  a  bewil 
dering  smile  of  frank  recognition,  —  aroused  in 
the  sailor  a  knowledge  of  himself. 

But  the  knowledge  came  with  a  shock,  and  his 
involuntary  attitude  partook  of  the  bitter  defiance 
of  his  last  meeting  with  her.  He  had  not  seen 
the  change  in  her  face  which  had  prompted  Mr. 
Breen  to  a  chivalrous  defence  of  his  ungracious 
ness,  and  he  went  down  the  street  with  wildly 
beating  heart  and  trembling  knee-joints,  wrestling 
with  the  one  phase  of  the  situation  that  he  could 
grasp,  —  she  had  smiled  on  him,  and  greeted  him 
from  the  window  of  her  home.  For  the  gentle 
man  at  her  side  —  the  commissioned  officer  —  he 
cared  nothing  at  present.  Mabel  had  smiled  on 


THE   AGE   OF   IKON  95 

him,  and  by  that  smile  had  lifted  him  higher  in 
his  self-estimation  than  would  an  appointment  to 
Annapolis. 

At  the  next  corner  he  came  to  earth.  He  heard 
distant  yells  over  the  house-tops,  and  the  rousing 
chorus  of  a  sea  song  that  he  knew.  But  that 
which  had  come  to  him  prevented  the  words  that 
would  surely  have  arisen  to  his  lips  without  it, 
and  yet  accentuated  the  sickening  disgust  he  now 
felt  for  the  crowd  with  which  he  was  identified, 
and  for  the  mission  which  had  brought  them  to 
this  peaceful  town.  What  would  she  think  of 
him  when  it  all  came  out  ?  Yet  she  herself  had 
once  asked  him  to  fight,  and  there  was  comfort 
in  the  thought. 

He  could  not  mix  with  that  crowd  now  —  not 
yet,  —  so  he  doubled  around  the  block  and  out 
across  the  ball-ground,  glad  to  find  it  vacant,  and 
sat  down  on  a  rock  at  the  side  of  the  country  road, 
where  he  overhauled  his  soul,  calling  back  the 
past,  planning  the  future,  and  often  shutting  his 
eyes  to  see  again  the  face  at  the  window.  His 
time  in  the  navy  would  expire  in  a  few  months; 
he  would  be  of  age,  he  could  obtain  the  money 
that  his  mother  had  left  him,  and  meet  Mabel 
Arthur  by  right  as  the  social  equal  of  any  ensign 
in  the  American  navy. 

Even  a  sailor  in  love,  seasoned  as  he  may  be 
against  exposure  and  warmed  by  the  glow  in  his 


96  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

breast,  may  become  chilled  if  he  sits  long  on  a 
cold  rock,  especially  if  the  uniform  of  the  day  is 
"blue  without  pea-coats."  Yet  the  distant  city- 
hall  clock  had  struck  seven  and  the  winter  cold 
had  reached  his  bones  before  he  was  reminded 
that  at  six  he  was  to  meet  the  boys  at  the 
station. 

"Hope  they  knew  enough  to  take  the  train," 
he  muttered  as  he  pulled  himself  together  and 
started  stiffly  through  the  darkness.  Under  the 
first  street  light  he  studied  his  time-table  and 
found  that  the  next  train  for  the  city  would  pass 
through  at  nine  o'clock.  "Plenty  of  time,"  he 
said ;  "  it's  like  pulling  teeth  to  shake  hands  with 
the  old  man ;  but  Aunt  Mollie  wouldn't  forgive 
me  if  I  missed  seeing  her." 

He  went  down  the  street,  past  the  schoolhouse, 
and,  a  few  blocks  further,  crossed  over  to  enter 
the  street  on  which  stood  his  uncle's  house.  But 
in  the  middle  of  the  street  he  stopped.  He  could 
look  straight  down  to  the  business  section  of  the 
town,  brightly  illuminated  by  the  newly  installed 
arc  lights  overhead.  Men  were  running  about 
and  an  occasional  shout  reached  his  ears.  He 
turned,  and  hurried  on,  for  he  could  distinguish, 
here  and  there,  among  the  running  men,  the  uni 
formed  figure  of  a  shipmate.  Two  men  coming 
toward  him  scurried  across  the  street  when  they 
saw  him  under  a  street  lamp,  and  Dick  heard 


THE   AGE   OF   IRON  97 

one  say,  "  There's  another  of  'em."     Both  looked 
worse  for  wear. 

He  passed  groups  on  the  corners,  and  was  stared 
at  and  given  room.  Uncomplimentary  remarks 
and  epithets  came  from  crowded  doorways,  and 
a  woman  screamed  after  him,  "Why  don't  you 
git  out  o'  this  town,  you  miserable  rowdy  ? " 
Paying  no  attention,  he  hurried  on,  passing  the 
door  of  the  police  station  where  three  middle-aged 
men  in  shirt-sleeves  and  blue  trousers  with  thin 
white  stripes  were  expostulating  with  an  older 
and  grayer  man  in  the  uniform  of  a  police  captain. 
On  the  next  street,  where  stood  the  Salvation 
Army  barracks  and  brightly  lighted  theatre,  was 
the  centre  of  excitement.  Here  he  found  Casey 
in  the  middle  of  the  street,  swinging  an  agonized 
pug  dog  around  by  its  chain  as  a  sailor  would 
heave  the  lead,  calling  out,  "  Watch,  ho,  watch," 
with  each  revolution  of  the  dog,  and  as  the  poor 
brute  landed,  "  By  the  mark  ten,"  "  A  quarter 
nine,"  or  any  mark  or  deep  of  the  lead-line  that 
came  to  his  mind.  The  mistress  of  the  dog  wept 
in  a  doorway,  and  O'Toole,  flourishing  a  locust 
club,  was  threatening  Casey  with  mock  arrest  and 
dodging  the  dog.  In  front  of  the  barracks  were 
the  others,  doing  their  best  to  break  up  an  out 
door  service  of  the  Salvationists.  Billson,  an  ex 
pert  bugler,  had  captured  a  cornet,  and  Scanlon  a 
drum.  The  street  was  crowded  with  awestruck 


98  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

boys,  and  the  sidewalks  with  well-dressed,  respect 
able  folk,  most  of  them  bound  for  the  theatre, 
and  some  of  whom  were  laughing  at  the  specta 
cle;  but  Morrisey,  the  tutelary  genius  of  it  all, 
was  not  in  evidence. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

"  TTELL  to  pay  and  no  pitch  hot,"  growled 

1  i  Dick  as  he  faced  Casey.  "  Drop  it, 
Casey,"  he  said,  "  belay  that.  Let  the  dog  go." 

"Hooray,"  yelled  Casey,  obeying  the  order  — 
the  dog  landed  near  its  owner  —  and  throwing 
his  arms  around  Dick's  neck.  "Here  he  is. 
Where  ye  been,  me  jewel  ?  Did  they  kill  ye  at 
all?" 

"  No  sound,  no  ground,  no  bottom  to  be  found, 
with  the  long  pitch-pine  pike-pole,  Daddy,"  howled 
Shannon,  vaulting  between  them  on  the  end  of  a 
long  pole.  "  Can  ye  take  soundin's  on  the  Erie, 
Casey?  This  way."  He  stabbed  the  pavement. 
"  No  sound,  no  ground  —  hello,  Dick.  Here's 
Dick." 

They  seized  Dick  by  the  shoulders  and  pushed 
him,  unresisting,  over  toward  the  others,  while 
O'Toole  prodded  them  with  the  club. 

"Stop  this,"  he  yelled,  shaking  himself  free. 
"  Stop  it,  or  you'll  get  the  worst  of  it.  Come  on, 
now,  down  to  the  station  —  all  of  you."  They 
paid  no  attention.  Dick  retreated  to  the  sidewalk 
and  a  dignified  old  gentleman  tapped  him  on  the 
shoulder.  He  knew  him.  It  was  Mr.  Arthur  — 
Mabel's  father. 

99 


100  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

"  You  appear  to  be  sober,  young  man,"  he  said. 
"  If  you  can  control  those  fellows  and  induce  them 
to  leave  town,  do  so ;  if  not,  as  mayor  of  the  town, 
I  shall  call  out  the  firemen.  They  can  attend  to 
them  if  the  police  cannot." 

"Excuse  me,  sir,"  answered  Dick  in  some  embar 
rassment  3 —  for  the  halo  of  Mabel's  divinity  hung 
over  her  father ;  "  but  if  you  do,  there  will  only 
be  some  heads  to  mend.  I  can't  control  them  now 
—  not  yet.  They're  three-sheets-in-the-wind  and 
wouldn't  take  orders  from  an  admiral.  But  wait 
a  little  and  I'll  get  them  away." 

"  Chief,"  called  the  old  gentleman  to  the  gray- 
haired  police  captain,  who  stood  in  the  crowd, 
"  call  out  all  the  companies  and  send  the  foremen 
to  me." 

Three  minutes  later,  with  a  clanging  of  bells 
and  scattering  of  boys,  two  engines,  two  hose-carts, 
and  two  hook-and-ladder  trucks  clattered  up  to  the 
corner  from  different  directions,  and  Dick,  expos 
tulating  with  his  shipmates,  who  were  now  form 
ing  for  parade,  observed  two  six-foot  foremen, 
in  fire  helmets  and  waterproof  coats,  hastening 
toward  the  mayor.  He  also  joined  him. 

"  Now  look  here,  sir,"  he  said  excitedly ;  "  there's 
no  use  in  this.  They'll  resent  dictation  and  some 
one  will  get  hurt  if  you  use  force  with  them.  I 
can  keep  them  from  doing  any  harm.  Leave  it 
to  me,  and  I'll  march  them  to  the  station." 


THE  AGE   OF  IKON  101 

The  mayor  regarded  him  seriously,  as  though 
disposed  to  believe  him ;  but  another  man,  pushing 
through  the  crowd,  interrupted  him  just  as  he  was 
about  to  speak. 

"What's  up,  Mr.  Arthur?"  he  asked.  "Want 
to  sprinkle  'em  ? " 

"  Why,  yes,  Jenkins,  I  had  thought  of  it  —  or 
else,  throwing  them  out  of  town  by  force.  I  called 
your  men,  but  as  chief  you  are  entitled  to  direct. 
This  young  man  advises  delay  —  thinks  he  can 
manage  them." 

"  Manage  nothing,"  answered  the  other,  regard 
ing  Dick  contemptuously.  "  I'll  give  'em  a  bath 
for  the  fun  of  it,  and  drive  'em  afterward." 

"  Suit  yourself,  Jenkins." 

"All  right,"  said  Dick,  angrily.  "You'll  be 
sorry  for  it,  I  promise  you.  I'll  stand  by  my 
mates." 

He  hurried  to  them  where  they  were  regarding 
with  mild  interest  the  preparations  for  their  undo 
ing.  They  seemed  to  have  forgotten  their  idea  of 
parade. 

"  Break  —  scatter  —  clear  out,"  yelled  Dick  ; 
"  they're  going  to  turn  the  water  on  you." 

"  Going  to  what  ? "  they  answered  in  chorus. 
"  Going  to  turn  water  on  us  ?  Are  we  afire  ? 
Going  to  wash  us  ?  Why  not  holystone  us  ?  Bill- 
son,  shut  off  steam,  there  ;  silence  that  fog-horn 
o'  yours.  Scanlon,  beat  to  quarters !  Repel 


102  MASTEKS   OF   MEN 

boarders!  All  hands  repel  boarders!  Keegan, 
belay.  Stand  by  for  a  rakin'  fire  from  forrard." 

Even  as  they  declaimed  the  two  companies  were 
rushing  their  engines  and  hose-carts  in  opposite 
directions  to  the  hydrants  at  the  next  corners,  the 
carts  paying  out  hose  as  they  went.  The  hook- 
and-ladder  men  remained  by  their  trucks.  Two 
pipe-men  at  each  hose  coupled  on  the  heavy  brass 
nozzles,  waited  until  the  engines  whistled,  and  sang 
out  in  answer.  Men  passed  the  word  along  the 
two  lines  and  water  came  —  a  deluge  of  it,  in  two 
solid  streams,  which  struck  the  procrastinating 
blue-jackets  and  knocked  most  of  them  down, 
while  the  crowd  cheered. 

Although  a  wetting  has  little  effect  on  the 
health  of  a  sailor,  it  invariably  adds  to  his  dis 
comfort  and  combativeness.  They  arose,  much 
soberer  than  when  they  fell,  charged  on  the  near 
est  nozzle  and  wrested  it  from  the  firemen,  who 
fled,  followed  by  the  stream,  which,  first  circling 
overhead,  generously  soaked  the  spectators  on  the 
sidewalk.  Leaving  two  in  charge  of  the  first 
nozzle,  they  charged  on  and  captured  the  second, 
the  pipe-men  speeding  out  of  range  like  the  others. 
Then,  while  the  firemen,  who  had  so  far  regarded 
the  matter  as  an  enjoyable  frolic,  were  reorganiz 
ing  with  their  oncoming  reinforcements,  —  which 
included  the  three  policemen, — the  two  streams 
were  turned  on  the  spectators,  changing  their 


THE   AGE   OF  IRON  103 

derisive  laughter  to  cries  of  anger,  and  practically 
washing  the  street  clear  of  them. 

But  the  firemen,  dead  in  earnest  now,  were  com 
ing  back,  nearly  two  dozen  strong,  armed  with 
spanners,  hooks,  fire-axes,  spare  nozzles,  and  trump 
ets.  They  had  thrown  off  their  cumbersome  water 
proof  coats,  and,  drenched  to  the  skin,  advanced 
inch  by  inch  against  the  two  streams  which  the 
yelling  sailors  held  at  their  breasts.  Then  they 
deployed  to  the  right  and  left,  flanked  and  dis 
concerted  the  moist  battery,  and  advanced  more 
rapidly  to  what  promised  to  be  a  bloody  conflict, 
disastrous  for  the  sailors.  To  add  to  this  promise, 
there  were,  coming  back  from  the  rear,  wet  and 
angry  citizens,  who  had  secured  sticks  and  clubs 
ranging  in  size  from  canes  to  cart-stakes ;  but,  in 
fact,  only  one  serious  conflict  occurred. 

It  was  between  a  sailor  and  two  big  hook-and- 
ladder  men,  who  had  advanced  with  fire-hooks, 
the  long  points  and  barbs  of  which  make  them  as 
wicked  weapons  as  boarding-pikes,  but  which,  to 
their  credit,  they  used  as  clubs.  The  curriculum 
of  navy-drill  provided  for  this  warfare,  and  a  well- 
trained  blue-jacket  with  a  club  in  his  hands  has 
the  same  advantage  that  a  skilled  fencer  has  with 
the  sword.  Untouched  by  the  lunging  strokes  of 
his  opponents,  the  sailor  whirled  his  light,  hard 
wood  foil,  —  a  condemned  billiard  cue,  —  punched, 
parried,  and  cut  with  it,  but  little  by  little  was 


104  MASTERS   OF    MEN 

forced  backward,  away  from  his  friends  and  into 
the  crowd  of  indignant  townspeople. 

He  would  not  have  fought  thus  unequally  had 
not  his  shipmates  been  interfered  with.  At  the 
beginning  of  it,  three  men  had  run  along  the  wet 
sidewalk,  turned  into  the  street,  and  hastened 
past  the  fighters  toward  the  groups  at  the  nozzles, 
as  the  place  of  most  ominous  trouble.  Two  were 
the  mayor  and  chief  of  the  fire  department.  They 
waved  and  ordered  the  firemen  back,  and  the 
other,  a  young  and  well-dressed  man,  sprang 
among  the  sailors,  shouting :  — 

"  Stop  this,  men.  Stop  it  at  once.  I  am  an 
officer.  Lower  those  nozzles  —  down  to  the 
ground.  Stand  on  them.  Instantly.  Do  you 
hear  me?  Turn  off  your  water,  gentlemen,"  he 
called  to  t'.ie  others;  "my  side  will  obey." 

They  had  obeyed  him.  Some  recognized  Mr. 
Breen,  and  all  knew  the  unmistakable  accent  of 
an  officer  accustomed  to  authority.  They  saluted 
and  answered  respectfully.  Shouts  were  passed 
around  the  corners,  and  soon  the  water  ceased 
to  flow.  "  Fall  in  over  here  at  the  curb," 
ordered  Mr.  Breen,  sternly,  "  and  give  an  account 
of  yourselves." 

"Can't  we  help  Halpin,  sir,"  asked  Casey, 
anxiously,  as  he  fitted  the  grummet  to  his  cap. 
"He's  gittin'  killed  over  yonder." 

Mr.  Breen  turned  and  looked,  just  in  time  to 


THE   AGE   OF   IRON  105 

see  the  fighting  sailor  struck  on  the  forehead 
with  a  heavy  stone  flung  from  across  the  street. 
Flourishing  the  half  of  his  broken  stick,  he  stag 
gered  and  fell.  The  officer  hurried  over,  followed 
by  the  sailors,  but  before  they  reached  the  pros 
trate  figure,  Mabel  Arthur  was  bending  over  it. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

~ ABEL  —  Miss  Arthur,"  said  the  officer, 
gently,  as  he  touched  her  arm;  "here 
is  your  father." 

Mr.  Arthur  almost  dragged  her  to  her  feet  and 
back  through  the  crowd,  scolding  her  in  a  most 
shocked  and  fatherly  manner. 

"  "Why  are  you  here  ?  Going  to  the  theatre  with 
Mr.  Breen?  Um-humph.  Might  better  have  re 
mained  at  home  on  this  occasion,  with  the  streets 
full  of  rioters.  I  haven't  dared  go  to  dinner." 

"But,  father,"  she  stammered,  "it  is  the  boy 
—  Dick  Hal  pin;  you  know  —  you  remember. 
The  boy  who  went  away,  and  —  oh,  father,  come 
back.  I  want  to  be  sure  that  he  is  not  seriously 
injured." 

Her  father  humoured  her,  and  the  crowd  parted 
for  them  to  make  their  way  back.  Dick  was  hurt, 
but  not  seriously.  He  was  on  his  feet,  shaking 
his  head  in  quick  jerks  to  prevent  the  blood  from 
running  into  his  eyes.  Wet,  muddy,  and  bleed 
ing,  with  his  long  hair  dishevelled  and  his  face 
contracted  in  pain,  he  was  not  an  agreeable  sight, 
and  Mabel  shuddered.  He  was  facing  partly  away 
106 


THE   AGE   OF   IRON  107 

and  could  not  see  her.  Mr.  Breen  held  him  by 
one  arm  and  Shannon  by  the  other,  not  to  sup 
port,  but  to  curb  him ;  for  he  was  muttering  to 
himself  and  was  not  yet  responsible. 

"  It  was  a  stone,  neighbour,"  said  one  of  the  fire 
men  to  him,  "not  us.  We  couldn't  touch  you. 
I'm  sorry  now,  old  man,  and  here's  my  hand  on 
it.  I  know  a  good  man  when  I  see  him.  We 
don't  throw  stones  —  not  us." 

"Who  was  it?"  asked  Dick,  weakly.  "Who 
hit  me?" 

"Never  mind  who  it  was,  Halpin,"  said  Mr. 
Breen,  sternly.  "You  have  disgraced  yourself 
and  the  service  enough  as  it  is." 

They  faced  him  the  other  way,  and  Dick  saw 
Mabel  —  saw  her  turn  from  him  with  an  expres 
sion  in  her  face  which  somewhat  resembled  the 
look  of  terror  and  horror  it  had  held  on  that  last 
day  in  school. 

"  Fall  in  here,  men,"  called  Mr.  Breen.  "  Double 
column  with  Halpin  between  you.  Webster,  I 
know  you ;  take  my  place.  I  hold  you  and  Shan 
non  responsible  for  his  safe  delivery  on  board  the 
Vermont.  Halpin,  you  are  under  arrest.  Make 
way  there,  please.  Forward  —  march." 

With  Shannon  and  Webster  holding  him  tightly, 
and  his  bodyguard  changed  to  a  guard  of  arrest, 
Dick  was  marched  through  the  streets  toward  the 
station.  But  Shannon  and  Webster  need  not  have 


108  MASTEKS   OF   MEN 

held  him.  He  was  tractable  and  harmless,  for  the 
transient  light  of  Mabel  Arthur's  smile  had  gone 
from  his  soul. 

The  ensign  hastened  after,  and  the  crowd  grad 
ually  dispersed,  except  for  a  small  contingent  that 
jeered  the  sailors  on  their  way.  On  the  station 
platform,  where  Mr.  Breen  halted  them  to  wait 
for  the  train,  Morrisey  appeared,  with  his  silk  hat 
on  an  even  keel  —  sober-faced  and  anxious  in 
manner. 

"I  know  ye're  an  officer,  sir,"  he  said  to  the 
ensign,  saluting  him  in  the  way  that  only  man- 
of-war's  men  acquire.  "  I'm  Tim  Morrisey,  late 
quartermaster  of  the  Kearsarge,  and  I  want  to  say 
a  word  for  the  boys,  and  Dick  there.  Dick's  a 
good  lad,  as  ye  must  know,  sir,  and  all  he  wanted 
was  to  do  up  the  gang  o'  school  bullies  that  killed 
him  once,  and  he  brought  his  mates  to  help  him. 
But  he  didn't  get  'em  full.  I  did  that,  not  knowin' 
how  far  they'd  go;  but  Dick's  innocent  of  it. 
Why,  ye  can  see,  sir,  that  Dick  hasn't  been 
drinkin'.  Plase  be  aisy  on  'em,  sir.  Now,  will 
ye  sind  Dick  over  to  my  hotel  under  guard,  sir, 
and  I'll  clane  him  up,  so  he  can  go  aboard  pre- 
sintable  like,  and  not  fall  foul  o'  the  master-at- 
arms  ? " 

During  part  of  this  discourse  Mr.  Breen  had 
been  compelled  to  smile,  which  had  encouraged 
Morrisey  to  continue. 


THE   AGE    OF   IRON  109 

"  I  will  consider  your  protest,"  he  answered ; 
"that  is  all  I  can  say." 

Morrisey  drew  over  toward  the  boys,  not  to 
talk,  —  he  knew  better,  —  but  to  encourage  them 
by  his  presence  and  sympathy.  They  were  quiet 
and  sober  now,  and  stood  shivering  in  their  wet 
clothing.  Dick,  smeared  with  blood,  was  seated 
on  a  bench  with  his  chin  in  his  hand  and  eyes 
on  the  platform. 

"Webster  —  Shannon,"  said  Mr.  Breen,  "take 
Halpin  over  with  this  man  and  attend  to  his  wants. 
Halpin,  will  you  go  on  board  to-night  if  I  give 
you  your  liberty?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Dick,  rising  to  his  feet  and 
saluting. 

"And  the  rest  of  you.  Do  you  all  belong  to 
the  receiving-ship?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  they  answered;  "all  of  us — we'll 
go  aboard,  sir  —  we  want  dry  clothes." 

"  Very  well,  go  along.  You  need  not  report  to 
the  executive  officer,  Halpin.  I  will  attend  to 
your  case  myself  when  I  come  on  board." 

"  Thank  ye,  sir,"  said  Morrisey ;  "  I  consider 
this  a  personal  favour,  sir." 

Mr.  Breen  went  back  to  spend  the  evening  at 
the  Arthurs.  He  had  managed  his  share  of  the 
proceedings  without  getting  wet,  and  was  still  a 
well-groomed,  presentable  young  man. 

Next  morning  the  baker's  dozen  of  sailors  intro- 


110  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

duced  themselves  to  the  Vermont 's  surgeon  in  the 
sick-bay,  all  suffering  from  splitting  headaches. 
But  Dick's  headache  was  hardest  to  cure,  for 
he  had  barely  escaped  brain  concussion.  Truly, 
thirteen  is  an  unlucky  number. 


CHAPTEK  XX 

ONLY  by  friction  with  his  fellows  and  by  the 
development  within  him  of  instincts  based 
upon  ancestral  experience  does  man  acquire  a 
conscience.  Continuing  on  from  the  embryonic 
reproduction  of  organic  change  of  the  lower  to 
the  higher  types,  the  young  of  the  human  species 
takes  up  at  birth  the  progress  of  the  ape-like 
men,  and  —  in  the  case  of  the  male  —  lives 
through  every  chapter  of  human  history.  The 
small  boy  in  his  primal  impulses  is  as  savage  as 
his  prototype  of  the  jungle.'  He  is  afraid  of  the 
dark,  he  is  afraid  of  the  storm,  and  whimpers  at 
the  sound  of  thunder.  In  this,  of  course,  he  is 
worthy  of  pity  and  comforting  words ;  but,  when 
he  has  conquered  his  cowardice  to  the  point  where 
he  dares  pounce  upon  a  weaker  creature,  he  will 
torture  it  mercilessly.  His  occasional  combats 
with  his  fellows  are  always  short  —  a  few  blows 
are  given,  and  one  flees,  pursued  by  the  other, 
courageous  because  confident.  But  should  the 
vanquished,  with  blind  rage  serving  for  courage, 
return  to  battle,  the  flight  will  be  reversed. 
Epitomizing  as  he  does  the  infancy  of  the  race, 

a  boy's  attitude  toward  the  world  is  antagonistic, 
ill 


112  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

Yet  there  are  times  during  his  passage  through 
the  Neolithic  Period  when  he  would  rather  beat 
you  at  marbles  than  frighten  you  with  a  pistol. 
Later  on  he  prefers  the  latter.  Then  there  are 
times  when  nothing  suits  him  but  a  bow  and 
arrow,  —  times  when  he  will  hide  for  days  in 
a  cave  which  he  has  found  or  dug  for  himself 
like  his  cave-dwelling  ancestry,  when  he  will 
practice  strenuously  at  hatchet-throwing,  knife- 
throwing,  spear-throwing,  and  is  joyful  of  soul 
when  he  can  break  a  window  with  a  stone  from 
his  sling.  Banded  with  others  he  will  often  cruelly 
maltreat  a  weaker  boy  —  a  captive  —  from  an 
other  neighbourhood,  and  his  hunting  games  — 
survivals  of  the  chase  —  sometimes  end  fatally  to 
the  losers.  He  is  a  robber  for  the  love  of  the 
sport.  But  in  time  —  somewhere  between  the 
ages  of  fifteen  and  twenty-one  —  these  primitive 
attributes,  under  the  influence  of  punishment, 
reward,  and  good  example,  may  be  civilized  out 
of  him,  and  he  becomes  fit  for  acquaintanceship. 
But  he  never  ceases  to  lie. 

The  development  of  the  girl  differs  slightly 
from  that  of  the  boy.  Yery  early  —  perhaps  in 
the  prenatal  life  —  she  loses  the  killing  impulse, 
and  only  resumes  it  under  later  stress  of  jealousy 
or  motherhood.  Leaving  her  Paleolithic  brother 
to  work  out  his  own  salvation  in  his  own  way,  the 
baby  girl  leaps  at  once  into  the  pseudo-civilization 


THE  AGE   OF   IRON  113 

of  the  Middle  Ages,  with  its  emotionalism,  its  en 
thusiasm,  and  its  supernaturalism  —  which  existed 
in  women  before  the  Middle  Ages  were  dreamt 
of.  She  is  a  monitor  and  a  preacher  from  prompt 
ings  within  herself,  and  when  she  has  learned  to 
talk  she  tells  her  small  brother  what  he  should 
and  should  not  do  —  not  because  she  knows,  but 
because  she  feels.  She  remains  in  the  Middle 
Ages  while  she  lives,  a  preacher,  a  monitor,  a 
dictator.  She  is  often  no  more  than  a  nagging 
scold,  but  on  the  whole  her  life  is  cleaner,  brighter, 
and  more  moral  than  that  of  her  brother.  Once 
past  the  sugar-bowl  period,  her  pilfering  propen 
sities  are  easily  dropped — or  suppressed  until  pov 
erty  or  kleptomania  bring  them  to  the  surface ; 
but  her  cowardice,  nourished  and  conserved  by 
physical  weakness,  often  remains  with  her  to  the 
end,  and  in  mendacity,  compelled  by  the  restric 
tions  placed  upon  her  by  society,  she  outclasses 
her  brother.  A  man  is  by  nature  a  liar  from  the 
cradle  to  the  grave.  A  woman  is  more  —  she  is 
an  actress. 

And  this  brings  us  to  the  object  of  this  analysis. 
We  know  that  Dick  Halpin  has  painfully  struggled 
from  the  Age  of  Stone  into  the  Age  of  Iron.  "We 
must  also  know  that  Bessie  Fleming  —  sweet, 
and  wholesome,  and  lovable  —  is  a  fibber.  As  to 
Mabel  Arthur,  we  can  only  infer ;  the  evidence  is 
not  clear. 


114  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

On  the  following  Sunday  the  two  girls,  each 
suitably  arrayed,  went  to  church,  and  when  the 
service  was  over,  met  in  the  vestibule.  After 
kisses  and  compliments  they  went  out  together, 
and  Bessie  said  effusively  :  — 

"  But  where  have  you  kept  yourself,  dear.  Why, 
I  haven't  seen  you  since  before  the  riot.  Wasn't 
it  dreadful  ? " 

"Wasn't  it?  I  have  been  ill  all  the  week," 
answered  Mabel.  "I  only  got  out  to-day." 

"  Weren't  they  horrid  ?  They  almost  killed 
poor  Dicky;  they  swung  him  around  by  his 
chain  and  he  hasn't  been  himself  at  all  since 
then.  And,  do  you  know,  it  was  Dick  Halpin 
—  our  Dick,  for  whom  we  named  him  —  who 
rescued  Dicky.  Wasn't  it  nice?  Such  a  coinci 
dence,  too." 

"  Did  he  ?  I  understood  that  he  was  the  ring 
leader  —  the  master  spirit." 

"  Not  at  all,  Mabel.  You  know  I  always  stood 
up  for  Dick,  and  always  will.  He  was  quelling 
the  riot  all  the  time." 

"  I  thought  Mr.  Breen  did  that  —  he,  and  father, 
and  the  firemen." 

"  But  Dick  was  first.  I  was  standing  in  a  door 
way  —  I  got  dreadfully  wet  —  and  saw  it  all.  I 
saw  you,  Mabel.  Did  you  see  Dick?  Isn't  he 
big,  and  strong,  and  handsome?" 

"  Handsome  ? "  murmured  Mabel,  with  a  sweet 


THE   AGE   OF   IRON  115 

and  pleasant  drawl  in  her  voice ;  "  I  don't  know. 
I  did  not  observe  him  closely  ;  but  I  think  that 
Mr.  Breen  is  rather  nice  looking." 

"  Do  you  ?  Now,  I  think  Dick  is  much  hand 
somer.  I  suppose  you  heard  how  he  thrashed 
those  boys  who  treated  him  so  cruelly." 

"I  did  hear  something;  but,  you  know,  I  am 
not  greatly  interested  in  his  exploits." 

"  No  ?  But  he  did,  Mabel  —  all  but  one,  who  ran 
away.  Anna  was  there  and  saw  it  all.  "Wasn't  it 
poetic  justice  —  that  he  should  come  back  so  big, 
and  brave,  and  strong  ?  And  he  was  so  small  and 
helpless  when  they  ill-treated  him.  You  know  how 
I  felt.  I  believe  I  was  the  only  friend  he  had  in 
the  whole  world." 

"Well,  I  felt  at  the  time,  and  feel  still,  that 
I  had  done  my  duty  when  I  exonerated  him. 
George  was  only  a  foolish  boy,  you  know.  Of 
course,  I  can  understand  that  it  is  different  with 
you.  Mr.  Breen  said  —  you  know  he  called  that 
day  and  spent  the  evening  with  us  —  well,  Mr. 
Breen  said  he  was  a  notorious  fighter,  always  in 
trouble." 

Bessie's  small  hand  opened  spasmodically,  much 
as  a  cat  shows  her  claws ;  but  it  was  gloved,  and 
Mabel  smiled,  sweetly  and  fearlessly. 

"  Did  he  really  call  on  you,  Mabel  ? "  asked 
Bessie.  "How  nice;  he  called  at  our  house, 
too;  but  Dick  was  there  and  he  went  away  — 


116  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

he  went  right  away.  I  was  surprised.  And  so 
he  called  on  you?" 

"He  had  something  to  say  to  me,"  replied 
Mabel,  dreamily.  "  I  suppose  that  he  called  to 
say  it." 

Bessie's  face  paled  a  little,  and  her  eyes  opened 
wide,  but  she  made  no  direct  inquiry  as  to  what 
Mr.  Breen  had  to  say.  After  a  moment's  silence 
she  said :  — 

"  I  don't  think  that  Mr.  Breen  is  at  all  reliable. 
I  think  he  is  very  much  of  a  flirt  —  so  insincere 
and  inconsistent.  Dick  is  different.  I  received 
a  lovely  letter  from  him  last  evening.  Shall 
I  show  it  to  you,  Mabel  ? " 

She  drew  forth  a  letter  which  Mabel  took, 
languidly,  and  experiencing  a  little  difficulty  in 
reaching  in  between  the  edges  of  the  envelope, 
removed  her  left  glove.  She  was  not  left-handed, 
but  by  removing  her  right  glove  she  could  not 
have  displayed  a  large  diamond  on  the  third 
finger  of  her  left  hand. 

"  Oh,  Mabel,"  exclaimed  Bessie,  as  she  seized 
the  hand,  "  isn't  it  beautiful  ?  "  Her  cheek  was 
whiter  and  her  lips  twitched. 

"  Yes,  isn't  it  ? "  responded  Mabel,  as  she  pressed 
the  gem  to  her  lips.  "  It  came  last  evening,  like 
your  letter,  from  New  York.  Let's  see  what  your 
gladiator  says. 

" '  My  dear  friend  Bessie,'  she  read  —  "  he  writes 


THE   AGE   OF   IRON  117 

a  good  hand,  doesn't  he,  Bessie,  for  a  common 
sailor  —  'My  dear  friend  Bessie,  you  have  prob 
ably  formed  an  estimate  of  my  general  character 
that  no  apology  from  me  will  change.  Yet  it  is 
due  myself  as  well  as  you  to  offer  one.  I  am 
sincerely  sorry  for  my  conduct,  and  ask  your  par 
don.  It  must  have  seemed  unqualified  rowdyism 
to  you.  I  know  that  I  have  no  reputation  in 
Allville  to  be  proud  of,  but  I  did,  and  would 
again,  value  your  good  opinion.  Yours  truly, 
Richard  Halpin.' 

"  Quite  an  apology,"  said  Mabel,  as  she  handed 
the  letter  back ;  "  but  why  should  he  apologize  to 
you,  Bessie  ?  Did  he  —  did  he  hit  you  ? " 

"Why,  Mabel  —  the  idea.  He  thought,  I  sup 
pose,  that  I  should  blame  him  for  poor  Dicky's 
suffering ;  and  then,  too,  I  was  his  only  friend." 

"And  I  suppose  you  will  answer?" 

"  Most  certainly." 

"  Well,  Bessie,  when  your  Dick  buys  the  ring 
he  must  induce  Mr.  Breen  to  select  it.  Mr. 
Breen  is  certainly  a  judge."  Mabel  fingered 
the  brilliant,  and  looked  lovingly  and  proudly 
at  it. 

"If  it  should  come  to  that,  Mabel,"  answered 
Bessie,  somewhat  incoherently,  "  I  think  he  could 
choose  for  himself.  There  are  mother  and  Anna 
—  beckoning,"  she  continued  brokenly.  "  I  must 
leave  you,  Mabel ;  and  do  come  around." 


118  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

"Yes,  and  do  come  yourself.  I've  so  many 
things  to  tell  you.  Good-by,  dear." 

"Good-by,  Mabel." 

They  kissed  and  parted  on  the  corner  around 
which  Dick  had  stalked  his  officer,  Mabel  going 
back  to  her  home  with  lips  tightly  pressed,  and 
Bessie  joining  her  mother  and  sister  with  a  look 
on  her  face  that  brought  anxious  inquiries  as  to 
her  health.  Neither  girl  called  on  the  other,  and 
when  they  met  again,  they  kissed,  talked  com 
monplaces,  and  parted  without  kissing.  "When 
next  they  met  the  kiss  was  omitted,  and  the  con 
versation  short.  Next  time,  Bessie  was  looking 
at  a  show-window  as  Mabel  came  abreast,  and 
on  the  next  occasion  this  happened  to  Mabel. 
Finally,  they  passed  with  stately  and  silent  sa 
lutes. 

From  a  masculine  point  of  view  it  was  certainly 
wrong  for  Bessie  to  give  a  false  colouring  to  Dick's 
ambiguous  apology ;  but  she  was  a  woman  ;  and 
women  have  their  OAvn  code  of  honour,  which  we 
must  not  question. 

Instead  of  writing  candidly  to  Mr.  Breen  ex 
plaining  Dick's  position,  as  masculine  ethics  would 
have  prompted,  Bessie  wrote  to  Dick,  and  not 
being  sure  of  his  abiding-place,  sent  the  letter 
in  care  of  Mr.  Breen.  The  ensign  received  it, 
studied  the  superscription  and  postmark,  swore 
softly,  and  sent  it  by  a  messenger-boy  to  Dick, 


THE   AGE   OF   IRON 


119 


who,  with  a  sunburst  of  court-plaster  on  his  brow 
and  dismal  gloom  in  his  soul,  read  it  in  the  light 
of  a  bow  port. 

It  was  an  angry  letter,  telling  of  the  diamond 
ring,  and  defining  Dick's  position  very  clearly ; 
but  as  it  contained  confessions  wrung  from  her 
maidenly  heart,  it  will  not  be  given  here.  If 
Bessie,  prompted  by  the  inscrutable  feminine 
code,  had  hoped  that  Dick  would  show  it,  or 
hint  as  to  its  tenor,  to  Mr.  Breen,  the  letter  failed 
of  its  mark;  for  Dick  understood  none  but  the 
masculine  code. 

But  the  enclosed  clipping  from  the  Allmlle 
Times  was  certainly  meant  for  Dick's  own  read 
ing.  It  ran  as  follows :  — 

Yesterday  afternoon  a  gang  of  drunken  sailors  came 
to  our  peaceful  town,  and  after  a  noisy  orgie  in  the 
whiskey  hole  run  by  Timothy  Morrisey,  began  the 
task  of  "painting  the  town."  Thanks  to  the  well- 
known  inefficiency  of  the  police  force,  they  almost 
succeeded.  Their  first  assault  was  directed  at  the 
graduating  class  of  the  high  school,  as  a  result  of 
which  several  of  its  members  are  now  ill  in  bed  from 
the  severity  of  their  injuries.  The  commencement 
exercises  will  probably  be  postponed.  It  seems  that 
the  ringleader  and  chief  rowdy  of  the  gang  is  one 
Richard  Halpin,  a  former  member  of  this  class,  who 
was  expelled  from  school  four  years  ago  for  stealing. 
He  then  ran  away  from  home,  and  now,  it  seems, 
returns  to  wreak  his  spite  upon  his  innocent  and 


120  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

unoffending  classmates,  and  bring  added  disgrace 
upon  himself  —  if  that  were  possible  —  and  on  the 
honoured  name  which  he  wears,  before  the  grass  has 
sprouted  on  the  graves  of  his  loving  guardians,  whose 
hearts  he  broke  and  whose  deaths  he  hastened  by  his 
villainy. 

After  their  attack  on  the  school  the  drunken  horde, 
first  overcoming  our  police,  raved  through  the  streets, 
smashing  windows  and  maltreating  citizens ;  then  the 
fire  department  was  called  out  by  the  mayor.  Our 
brave  firemen  would  certainly  have  overcome  the 
rioters  but  that  the  appearance  of  Ensign  Breen  of 
the  navy,  a  guest  of  our  mayor,  rendered  action  un 
necessary.  Mr.  Breen  marched  the  crowd  down  to 
the  station  with  the  ruffian  Halpin  under  arrest.  Mr. 
Breen  deserves  the  thanks  of  the  community  for  his 
firmness  and  courage,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the 
fellow  Halpin  will  be  severely  dealt  with  on  ship 
board  ;  but,  with  the  expected  reorganization  of  our 
police  force,  we  can  confidently  predict  that  should 
he  set  foot  in  our  town  again  his  reception  will  be 
warm. 

Efforts  are  being  made  toward  the  rescinding  of 
Morrisey's  license,  as  the  place  has  too  long  disgraced 
the  town. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

ON  board  the  Vermont  there  were  twelve 
distinct  and  conflicting  accounts  of  the 
"hurrah"  at  Allville  given  to  the  ship's  com 
pany  ;  but  Dick,  from  whom  most  was  expected, 
had  nothing  to  say  nor  would  he  express  any 
interest  in  Kerrigan's  report,  reluctantly  given, 
that  Devlin  and  himself  had  been  unable  to  catch 
the  long-legged  Ned  Brown.  He  was  a  changed 
young  man,  and  in  a  very  bad  way.  Not  even 
the  proud  approval  and  warm  congratulations 
of  Bronson  could  lift  him  from  the  mood  that 
had  engulfed  him.  He  despised  himself.  He 
had  seen  glimpses  of  a  life  in  which  he  could 
take  no  part.  He  was  mentally  benumbed,  and 
Bessie's  angry  letter,  with  its  news  of  his  aunt's 
and  uncle's  death,  affected  him  much  less  than  it 
could  have  before  his  trip.  Nor  did  Mr.  Breen's 
later  attitude  help  him.  There  had  been  no  sum 
mons  to  the  mast,  but  the  ensign  had  sent  for 
Dick,  and  with  constrained  manner  and  averted 
eyes  told  him  that,  having  learned  of  certain 
events  of  his  school-days,  connected  with  his 
recent  conduct,  he  had  decided  to  make  no  report 

to  the  executive  officer.     It  was  right,  he  said, 

121 


122  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

that  Dick  should  know  to  whom  he  was  indebted. 
He  could  thank  Miss  Arthur.  He  could  go  for 
ward. 

And  Dick  had  sullenly  thanked  the  officer,  and 
had  gone  forward,  trying  to  hate  Mabel.  But  it 
was  impossible,  in  spite  of  what  seemed  to  him  to 
be  the  nature  of  her  intercession  —  even  though 
she  must  have  told  of  his  disgrace  at  school.  For 
what  else  would  have  so  turned  Mr.  Breen  against 
him? 

Gradually,  however,  Dick  came  back  to  some 
thing  like  his  old  genial  self,  yet  could  not,  by 
the  time  he  lined  up  on  the  Cob-dock  with  lashed 
bag  and  hammock,  —  one  of  a  draft  for  the  New 
York,  —  look  on  Mr.  Breen  without  silent  male 
diction. 

Strong  to  his  resolve  to  quit  the  navy  when  his 
time  expired,  he,  with  others  of  the  draft,  had 
entered  early  protest  against  being  sent  to  a  for 
eign  station.  The  protest,  usually  considered, 
was  ignored,  possibly  from  an  inward  knowledge 
among  the  officers  that  the  New  York  might 
remain  on  the  coast ;  but  this  reason  was  not 
given  to  the  men,  and  there  was  bitter  talk  of 
desertion  before  the  ship  sailed.  Dick,  laying 
this  additional  grievance  at  the  door  of  Mr. 
Breen,  who  had  promised  to  have  him  selected 
from  good-will,  and  had  now  done  it  from  ill-will, 
seriously  thought  of  it  himself. 


THE   AGE   OF   IRON  123 

A  few  happenings  strengthened  his  half-formed 
resolution.  The  New  York,  a  two-masted,  three- 
funnelled  armoured  cruiser,  was  taking  in  the  coal 
discharged  before  docking.  As  her  bunkers  held 
over  twelve  hundred  tons,  it  was  a  long,  distaste 
ful  job  for  the  men,  and  nothing  else  being  re 
quired  of  them  until  the  carpenters,  calkers,  and 
machinists  had  finished  repairs,  the  off-watch  was 
allowed  daily  liberty.  Fate  and  Dick's  captain- 
of-di vision  had  decreed  that  he  should  take  his 
place  one  morning  in  the  lighter  alongside  to 
shovel  coal  into  canvas  bags,  and  hook  on  the 
davit  whip  by  which  they  were  hoisted  up  to  the 
shutes.  It  was  a  dirty  and  dusty  job,  and,  along 
near  noon  and  knocking-off  time,  just  when  he 
was  as  dirty,  dusty,  and  black  as  he  could  be,  he 
looked  up  from  a  filled  bag  to  see  Mabel  Arthur 
gazing  down  on  him  from  the  after  part  of  the 
superstructure-deck.  Beside  her  was  Mr.  Breen, 
pointing  at  him,  and  farther  along  were  her 
father  and  brother  inspecting  a  searchlight. 
There  was  little  reason  to  suppose  that  they 
could  know  one  grimy  shoveller  from  another  at 
that  distance,  or  that  Mabel  would  have  recog 
nized  her  own  brother  so  disguised,  but  Dick 
looked  downward  with  cheeks  burning  under  the 
dirt.  He  had  been  pointed  at,  and  he  felt  his 
humiliation  to  the  full.  He  shovelled  energeti 
cally  for  a  while,  and  when  forced  to  straighten 


124  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

his  aching  back,  he  looked,  not  aft,  but  forward, 
and  there  she  was,  staring  down  on  him  from  the 
forward  bridge,  while  Mr.  Breen,  amidship,  was 
pointing  up  at  the  fighting-tops,  seemingly  ex 
plaining  things  to  Mr.  Arthur  and  George.  Dick 
hung  his  head  again,  and  worked,  perspiring. 
He  had  little  false  pride,  and  coaling  ship  was 
a  necessary  evil,  but  he  should  have  liked  to  be 
cleaner  when  she  looked  at  him  —  not  labouring 
like  a  longshoreman  at  the  most  unsailorly  work 
in  the  navy.  Having  climbed  into  a  port  to 
avoid  meeting  her,  he  met  her  again  on  the  lower 
deck,  forward  of  the  engine-room  skylight,  where 
the  visitors  and  Mr.  Breen  were  picking  their  way 
aft  over  scattered  lumps  of  coal. 

"  Here,"  cried  the  officer,  sharply  ^  "  get  a  broom 
—  there's  one  —  sweep  this  gangway  clear.  Lively 
now ! " 

He  spoke  to  Dick,  but  neither  he  nor  the  gentle 
men  seemed  to  know  him :  though  Mabel  certainly 
did,  as  was  evidenced  by  the  fixity  of  her  gaze 
over  his  head  while  he  swept  coal  out  of  her  way, 
and  by  the  sweetness  of  the  smile  she  gave  the 
next  grimy  tar  —  it  was  Casey  —  who  kicked  a 
sleeping  pig,  the  ship's  mascot,  from  her  path. 

Raging  inwardly,  Dick  finished  the  task,  flung 
the  broom  from  him,  cleaned  up,  and  ate  his 
dinner.  He  kept  out  of  sight  until  two  o'clock, 
when  a  boatswain's-mate  piped  the  liberty  crowd 


THE   AGE   OF   IKON  125 

to  the  quarter-deck;   and   here,  standing  in  line 

—  sweet  and  clean,  and  good-looking  —  he  stared 
defiantly  into  her  eyes  as  she  watched  the  men 
told  off.     But  he  could  not  keep  it  up ;  she  joined 
him  in  the  stare  ;  his  eyes  shifted  and  came  back, 

—  she  was  still  gazing  at  him,  —  and  they  sought 
the  deck.     He  looked  again,  with   the   defiance 
gone,  and  in  place  of  it,  the  dumb,  pleading  look 
of  a  spaniel.     Then  her  own  eyes  dropped,  a  blush 
came  to  her  face,  and  she  looked  at  him  no  more. 
She  was  not  conquered  in  the  battle  of  eyes ;  she 
had  merely  searched  well,  and  learned  what  she 
had  not  known. 

On  the  dock  Dick  gave  his  name  to  the  cadet 
in  charge  of  the  squad,  and  obtained  permission 
to  visit  the  Vermont  before  going  out  of  the 
yard.  He  saw  Bronson  and  had  a  stormy  quar 
ter  of  an  hour  with  him,  at  the  end  of  which  the 
latter  said  gravely,  "And  I  hoped  to  see  you  a 
warrant  officer,  but  you  won't  have  it ;  so,  go  — 
go  along,  and  good  luck  to  you,  Dick." 


CHAPTEK  XXII 

T71ATHER,  daughter,  and  brother  left  the  New 
J_  York,  with  Mr.  Breen  in  civilian's  clothing 
and  carrying  a  heavy  satchel.  The  ship  lay  on 
the  inshore  side  of  the  Cob-dock,  just  around  the 
corner  from  the  Vermont,  and  a  straight  side 
walk  led  from  her  gang-plank  to  the  landing  of 
the  ferry-scow,  a  cabined  craft  which  pulled  itself 
by  means  of  a  winch-engine  back  and  forth  on 
a  stationary  chain.  Dick  Halpin  hurried  down 
another  walk  which  led  from  the  Vermont,  and 
boarded  the  scow  just  ahead  of  them.  When 
they  entered  and  sat  down  amidships  he  was 
seated  in  a  forward  corner,  with  his  back  turned 
squarely  toward  them ;  but  his  cap  was  slued  on 
his  head,  and  the  name  of  his  ship  on  the  ribbon 
was  readable. 

"There's  one  of  your  men,  forward,"  said 
George,  as  Mr.  Breen,  with  a  sign  of  relief,  de 
posited  the  satchel  on  the  deck.  The  officer 
glanced,  nodded,  and  sat  down  beside  Mabel. 
Other  passengers — sailors,  marines,  and  workmen 
—  crowded  in,  and  Dick  was  nearly  hidden  from 
view. 

126 


THE   AGE   OF   IRON  127 

"  Does  he  have  to  shovel  coal  ? "  asked  Mabel  in 
a  low  voice.  "  Is  that  his  duty  ? " 

"  Who  do  you  mean  ? " 

She  leaned  forward,  looked  at  Dick's  broad 
back,  and  said,  "  Dick  Halpin." 

"Why,  yes  —  coaling  ship  —  in  his  turn  —  un 
less  he  gets  a  rating.  But  he  hasn't  had  time  for 
that.  Was  he  shovelling  ? " 

"  Didn't  you  see  him  ?  You  pointed  right  at 
him  —  down  in  the  boat.  He  saw  us.  He  must 
have  thought  we  were  talking  about  him." 

"  Didn't  see  him  at  all." 

"You  ordered  him  to  sweep  the  floor  for  us — 
down  cellar.  Do  you  always  speak  to  him  like 
that  ? " 

"  Was  that  Halpin  ? "  asked  the  ensign,  with  a 
smile.  "  They're  all  alike,  sometimes.  Certainly. 
We  can't  take  time  to  request  them  to  do  any 
thing.  We  tell  them  to." 

She  was  silent;  the  noise  of  the  chain  going 
over  the  winch  made  conversation  difficult,  and 
when  the  scow  reached  the  landing  they  all  arose 
and  crowded  forward  to  step  ashore.  "  Here,  my 
lad,"  said  Mr.  Breen,  briskly,  tapping  Dick  on  the 
shoulder.  "  Going  out  ?  Carry  this  grip  for  me 
to  the  gate  —  eh  —  Halpin." 

Dick  turned  with  a  flush  on  his  face  that  was 
almost  black ;  but  he  touched  his  cap  and  took 
the  bag.  George  smiled  cheerfully,  but  Mr. 


128  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

Breen  seemed  disturbed  and  embarrassed.  He 
stepped  after  Dick  with  a  hand  half  extended  for 
the  burden,  but  it  was  too  late  ;  he  was  on  the 
landing-float,  and  before  the  ensign  reached  it, 
was  swinging  up  the  walk  as  though  anxious  to 
escape  from  them.  Mr.  Breen  paused  and  looked 
at  Mabel's  face ;  but  she  averted  her  eyes  as  she 
took  her  father's  arm,  and  he  walked  to  the  gate 
beside  her  brother.  Outside,  Dick  was  waiting. 
No  doubt  his  training  was  strong  upon  him,  yet 
there  was  a  suggestion  in  the  way  he  was  swing 
ing  the  bag  of  a  desire  to  hurl  it  from  him,  as 
he  had  once  thrown  his  schoolbooks.  Mr.  Breen 
approached  and  relieved  him. 

"  I  didn't  know  you,  Halpin,"  he  said.  "  Believe 
me,  I  had  no  wish  to  work  you  or  humiliate  you 
before  people  you  knew." 

The  unforgiving  Dick  turned  a  sullen  face  away 
from  him,  then  back. 

"Wouldn't  you  like,  sir,"  he  said  in  a  voice 
which,  though  high-pitched  and  trembling,  was 
but  little  louder  than  the  purr  of  a  cat,  "  that  I 
should  polish  your  shoes?  There's  still  time  — 
while  I  wear  this  rig." 

"  Halpin,  you  are  insolent." 

"  Am  I,  sir  ?  Perhaps.  I  happen  to  be  a 
free-born  American  in  temporary  servitude. 
Not  for  long,  however,  though  I  may  finish  my 
time  in  the  brig.  Let  me  suggest,  Mr.  Breen, 


THE   AGE   OF   IRON  129 

tact  and  wisdom  on  your  part  when  we  meet 
after  that." 

He  swung  on  his  heel  and  strode  down  the 
street  toward  the  Brooklyn  Bridge.  Mr.  Breen, 
biting  his  lip,  returned  to  his  friends,  and  they 
boarded  the  first  car  that  came  along,  which, 
being  delayed,  did  not  make  good  time ;  so,  they 
mounted  the  steps  to  the  platform  just  ahead  of 
Dick,  who  had  walked  the  distance,  and  as  they 
seated  themselves,  Mabel  looked  at  the  ensign 
with  an  expression  that  he  did  not  understand, 
but  which  brought  him  to  her  side. 

"  Your  friend  has  given  warning,"  he  said,  with 
a  troubled  look  at  her.  "  Going  to  skip,  I  judge." 

"What?" 

"  Desert." 

"Don't  they  hang  them,  or  shoot  them  for 
that?" 

"  Not  in  time  of  peace.  A  man  is  no  good  if 
he  doesn't  want  to  stay;  so  we  seldom  look  for 
them.  The  worst  that  could  happen  is  a  couple 
of  years  in  the  Charlestown  naval  prison.  But 
it's  too  bad.  He's  a  good  man." 

"  Good  ?  Yes,  good  to  put  in  coal,  and  sweep, 
and  carry  things,  and  be  spoken  to  as  you  could 
not  safely  speak  to  a  servant,"  she  answered 
quickly.  "  But  he  must  not.  It's  so  disgracer 
ful." 

While  the  officer  was  contriving  a  safe  answer 


130  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

to  her  puzzling  comparisons,  she  arose  with  resolu 
tion  in  her  eyes ;  then,  while  he  held  up  a  depre 
catory  hand  to  Mr.  Arthur,  who  was  about  to 
speak,  she  marched  out  and  through  the  train  to 
where  Dick  sat  alone  in  the  rear  car,  looking  out 
on  the  river  and  shipping. 

"  Mr.  Halpin,"  she  said,  as  she  took  the  seat  be 
side  him. 

He  turned  and  the  anger  left  his  face.  Reach 
ing  up  awkwardly,  he  got  his  cap  off  and  held  it 
in  his  lap,  while  he  stammered  :  "  Miss  Arthur. 
I  didn't  —  how  do  you  do  ? " 

"  Mr.  Breen  has  just  told  me  that  you  mean  to 
leave  the  navy  —  to  desert." 

"  Yes.     I've  had  enough  of  it." 

"  But  you  know  the  consequences  ?  It  will  ruin 
you." 

"  It's  hard  to  ruin  a  foremast  hand,  Miss 
Arthur." 

"But  the  disgrace  —  think  of  it.  Please  do 
not." 

He  was  silent,  and  his  hand  shook  as  he  gripped 
his  cap. 

"  You  know,"  she  went  on,  "  I  was  in  a  way 
connected  with  your  leaving  school  and  home,  and 
I've  always  wanted  to  tell  you  how  sorry  and 
ashamed  I  was,  but  you  never  came  back ;  and  you 
cannot  wonder  that  I  want  to  see  you  succeed." 

"  There's  no  success  in  the  navy,"  he  answered 


THE    AGE   OF   IRON  131 

doggedly.  "  The  laws  forbid  it.  After  years  of 
service  and  hard  study,  I  might  become  a  boat 
swain  or  a  gunner,  and  there  I'd  stop.  And  I  hate 
the  life.  JSTo,  Miss  Arthur,  I'll  succeed,  I  promise 
you  that.  I'll  meet  him  yet  as  an  equal." 

"Who?" 

"  Mr.  Breen ;  but  I've  no  chance  in  the  same 
ship  with  him.  He's  got  his  knife  into  me  now." 

"  Does  he  bully  you  ?  Oh,  I  noticed  —  I  was  so 
sorry.  Promise  me,  please,  that  you  will  not  de 
sert.  For  my  sake  —  " 

"  I  did  something  once  for  your  sake,"  he  an 
swered  insanely,  "  and  got  the  worst  of  it  all  around. 
Here's  one  result.  After  four  years'  service  I  may 
be  body-servant  —  a  bag  carrier  —  to  the  man  you 
are  to  marry." 

She  started  up,  with  two  very  red  cheeks,  and 
left  him.  At  the  door  she  halted  and  turned  as 
though  she  would  have  come  back,  but  he  was 
staring  sullenly  across  the  car,  and  the  train  was 
entering  the  New  York  terminal.  So  she  joined 
the  others. 

"  I  can  do  nothing  with  him,"  she  said  to  Mr. 
Breen.  "  He  is  angry  —  and — he  never  has  for 
given  me.  But  you  can  reason  with  him." 

"I?     Why  should  I?" 

"  You  must.  You  have  ill-treated  him.  There 
he  goes  now  —  between  the  cars ;  hurry." 

"  But  why  3    What  for  ?    What  am  I  to  do « " 


132  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

"  Catch  him.  Talk  with  him.  Explain  what  I 
cannot.  Apologize  to  him.  Yes,  you.  Put  aside 
your  dignity  for  him  —  for  me.  Please  —  hurry. 
Oh,  please.  He  turned  up  the  street." 

"  Pm  in  for  it,"  said  the  officer,  dryly.  "  All 
right ;  I'll  do  all  I  can  for  him.  Here,  Mr.  Arthur, 
will  you  please  leave  the  grip  in  the  parcel-room 
at  the  station,  with  my  name.  I'll  report,  Miss 
Arthur,  if  I  live  through  it ;  but  I  ought  to  have 
some  brass  knuckles,  or  a  club.  Good  day." 

He  hastened  on  and  up  Park  Row  after  the 
tall  blue  figure  which  he  could  see  over  the  heads 
of  the  crowd.  "  One  sometimes  wonders,"  he 
muttered  as  he  dodged  along,  "  just  what  consti 
tutes  conduct  becoming  an  officer  and  a  gentle 
man.  As  an  officer,  I  ought  to  call  a  policeman ; 
as  a  gentleman,  I  must  do  as  I'm  bid  like  a  little 
man  —  run  after  this  unlicked  scrapper,  pat  him 
on  the  back,  soothe  his  injured  feelings,  and  for 
ever  lose  his  respect  for  me  as  an  officer." 

He  took  his  eyes  off  Dick  for  a  moment  or 
two  as  the  crowd  impeded  him,  and  when  he 
looked  again  he  was  not  in  sight. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

WHEN  Dick  had  left  the  car  he  hurried  past 
the  others  and  up  Park  Row  in  the  mood 
of  an  Apache  at  a  torture-bee.  He  had  given 
pain,  and  savagely  he  rejoiced.  What  right  had 
she,  in  her  insolence  of  beauty  and  position,  to 
patronize  and  pity  him  ?  He  wanted  none  of  her 
pity. 

But  underneath  this  raging  was  an  obtruding 
consciousness  that  he  had  acted  like  a  sulky  boy, 
and  for  a  moment  it  took  charge  of  his  soul — for 
a  moment  he  would  have  rushed  through  fire  to 
reach  her  and  humble  himself,  and  in  this  moment 
he  turned  to  go  back,  to  follow  her  home  if  nec 
essary  ;  but  he  saw  Mr.  Breen  pushing  toward  him 

through  the  crowd.  "  D n  him,"  he  growled  ; 

"  why  don't  she  send  her  precious  brother  too  ? " 
He  darted  into  the  nearest  doorway ;  it  was 
a  pawnshop  with  another  entrance  on  William 
Street,  and  passing  through  he  doubled  back,  and 
by  a  passageway  alongside  the  bridge  reached 
Park  Row  again  at  the  foot  of  the  entrance.  They 
were  not  in  sight,  and  he  paused. 

"  No,"  he  muttered,  "  I'll  fight  it  out  to  the  end. 
I'll  prove  myself  good  as  she  or  her  ensign." 

133 


134  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

He  was  less  savage  now,  but  more  consistent  in 
his  resolve,  and  he  crossed  City  Hall  Park,  found 
a  barber  shop  and  had  his  hair  cut.  The  re 
sult,  as  he  looked  in  the  mirror,  did  not  please 
him.  His  features  seemed  larger  and  coarser,  and 
near  the  borders  of  the  cropped  hair  were  white 
streaks  of  skin  that  had  been  shaded  from  the  sun. 
"  Spotted  like  a  brindle  cow,"  he  grumbled,  "  till 
I  bleach  out ;  but  I've  got  to  be  civilized."  In  a 
near-by  clothing  store  he  bought  a  suit,  hat,  linen, 
and  neckwear,  which  he  donned  in  the  dressing- 
room,  and  then  stepped  into  the  street  with  his 
uniform  in  a  bundle,  almost  unrecognizable  to  a 
shipmate. 

He  would  pawn  his  uniform ;  but  unwillingness 
to  meet  Mr.  Breen  prevented  him  seeking  one  of 
the  numerous  pawnshops  in  Park  Row,  so  he 
recrossed  the  Park,  went  east  below  the  bridge, 
turned  north,  and  in  Catherine  Street,  down  near 
the  river,  found  a  pawnbroker  who  advanced  five 
dollars  on  the  suit.  He  would  have  purchased  it 
outright  for  ten,  for  it  was  of  the  finest  cloth  and 
flannel,  stitched  and  starred  and  crow-footed  with 
silk  ;  but  down  in  Dick's  rebellious  heart  was  the 
man-of-war's-man's  love  for  his  mustering-clothes, 
and  he  refused  to  sell.  When  he  was  established 
as  a  landsman  and  a  gentleman,  it  would  be  a 
pleasant  reminder  of  the  life  he  had  escaped. 

It  was  growing  dark  when  he  left  the  pawnshop. 


THE   AGE   OF   IRON  135 

The  wind  was  rising,  and  damp  snow  filled  the  air, 
which,  melting  underfoot,  made  a  dirty  slush  that 
wet  his  feet  in  a  block's  walk.  He  regretted  not 
buying  rubber  overshoes,  not  because  wet  feet 
were  unusual,  or  troubled  him  in  the  least,  but  be 
cause  he  must  now  act  and  feel  like  a  citizen ;  he 
must  also  have  an  umbrella,  and  when  he  had  ob 
tained  money,  an  overcoat,  which  he  would  wear 
through  the  winter  whether  he  was  cold  or  not. 

His  humiliation  and  anger  at  noon  had  pre 
vented  him  eating  much  at  dinner,  and  feeling 
hungry  now,  and  reasoning  that  Mr.  Breen  could 
not  remain  very  long  in  Park  Row,  he  tramped 
through  the  slush  to  this  street  of  cheap  restau 
rants  ;  for  he  must  economize  until  he  found  work. 
Before  a  huge  dish  of  hot  corn-beef  hash,  he  re 
signed  himself  to  the  luxury  of  being  a  landsman. 
"  Think  of  the  way  mess  cooks  spoil  good  grub," 
he  mused  as  he  ate.  "  Couldn't  cook  like  this  if 
you  paid  them.  Four  years  and  a  half  in  the  navy 
—  where  you  think  by  regulation  —  with  a  boss 
at  each  hatchway.  No  more  for  me.  Ashore  a 
man  has  one  boss,  and  sleeps  in  a  bedroom  with 
a  window  in  it." 

He  was  again  in  the  street,  the  warmth  of  the 
restaurant  behind  him,  the  damp  chill  of  the  storm 
all  about  him.  He  must  find  a  boarding-house, 
and  look  for  work  in  the  morning.  Nothing 
better  of  the  first  presented  than  one  of  the  twenty- 


136  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

five-cent  lodging-houses  on  the  Bowery,  so  he 
sought  one,  and  sat  in  the  reading-room  —  to  wait 
for  bedtime.  About  him  were  all  manner  of  men, 
in  all  stages  of  poverty  —  all  out  of  work,  as  evi 
denced  by  their  depressing,  half-hearted  conversa 
tion.  These  men  were  .not  succeeding  on  shore, 
and  some  were  well  educated  and  intelligent.  He 
tried  to  read  a  newspaper,  but  gave  it  up;  for, 
either  from  his  well-filled  stomach  —  which  was 
beginning  to  distress  him  —  or  from  the  backward 
swing  of  the  mental  pendulum,  he  could  not  keep 
his  mind  off  the  day's  happenings.  He  saw  her 
face,  with  its  new  expression.  He  shut  his  eyes  to 
see  it  smiling  from  the  window  of  her  home,  but 
the  vision  would  not  come ;  all  he  could  see  was 
shock,  and  pain,  and  embarrassment  —  the  red 
spots  on  the  cheeks. 

In  five  minutes  the  reaction  had  set  in  strong ; 
and  he  reviled  himself,  doubting  his  sanity  —  again 
in  the  agonies  of  dejection  and  self-contempt.  He 
understood  the  full  force  of  his  brutal  speech,  not 
in  its  effect  on  her,  —  for  he  had' never  dreamed 
that  she  had  cleared  him  of  the  charge  which  em 
bittered  his  life,  —  but  as  it  appealed  to  his  man 
hood  and  sense  of  fair  play.  Then  his  love  for 
her  arose  in  its  strength  to  punish  him.  She  had 
come,  voluntarily,  and  apologized  for  a  childish 
fault,  in  order  that  she  might  beg  him,  for  her  sake, 
not  to  brand  himself  with  the  stain  that  could  in 


THE  AGE   OF   IRON  137 

no  wise  reach  her.  What  did  it  mean  ?  he  asked 
himself.  There  flashed  over  his  mind  a  momen 
tary  thought  that  it  meant  love  for  him  ;  but  he 
put  the  thought  from  him  as  impossible  —  not  for 
a  brute  like  him.  It  was  her  generous  nobility  of 
soul  acting  in  spite  of  his  oft-repeated  boorishness. 

He  arose  and  went  out  into  the  storm,  fighting 
his  way  against  it  to  Catherine  Street,  down  which 
he  turned,  only  to  find  the  pawnshop  closed ;  for  it 
was  after  six  o'clock.  He  was  disappointed  ;  he 
would  have  resumed  his  uniform  and  gone  aboard 
the  ship  that  evening,  to  take  up  the  burden  she 
had  asked  of  him  ;  and  it  now  meant  a  night  in 
the  lodging-house,  which,  in  his  present  mood,  was 
repugnant  to  him.  He  went  slowly  back,  for  he 
was  not  feeling  well ;  the  dull  pain  in  his  stomach 
had  increased,  and,  under  a  lamp-post,  a  sudden 
fierce  gripe  brought  him  up,  half  bent  over,  and 
clinging  to  the  iron  post  for  support.  A  passer-by 
touched  him  on  the  shoulder.  It  was  Mr.  Breen, 
wet  and  bedraggled,  with  a  tired,  angry  face. 

"This  you,  Halpin?  So  you've  done  it,  have 
you?" 

"No,  Mr.  Breen,"  gasped  the  subdued  Dick. 
"  I've  changed  my  mind.  I'm  going  aboard  in  the 
morning,  when  I  get  my  clothes." 

"  You're  going  back,"  said  the  disgusted  oflicer. 
"If  I'd  known  that  I'd  have  done  something  better 
with  my  time  than  searching  every  dive  in  sailor- 


138  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

town  for  you.  May  I  ask  you,  in  all  due  humility, 
what  has  changed  your  mind  ? " 

"  May  I  ask  you,  sir,"  said  Dick,  speaking  with 
difficulty,  "  why  you  waste  your  time  looking  for 
me?" 

"  Because  a  lady  asked  me  to." 

"That  —  is — why  —  I  serve  my  time,  sir — • 
because  she  asked  me  —  O,  Lord  !  " 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you  ?  Halpin,  what 
ails  you  ? " 

"  Stomach-ache,  sir.  I  ate  some  Park  Row 
hash." 

The  young  officer  grinned  in  spite  of  his  mood. 
"  You  want  some  peppermint,  or  ginger,  1  should 
say.  Come  around  the  corner,  Halpin.  It's  a 
tough  joint  —  I  was  just  there  —  but  the  nearest, 
and  —  any  port  in  a  storm." 


CHAPTER  XXIY 

IT  was  not  an  ill-looking  place,  as  saloons  go,  to 
which  Mr.  Breen  assisted  Dick.  The  barroom 
was  small  and  the  bar  short,  but  it  was  neat  and 
clean.  Around  the  walls  were  prints  and  models  of 
ships,  brigs  and  schooners,  and  on  the  shelf  back 
of  the  bar  was  the  inevitable  full-rigged  ship  in  a 
bottle.  The  floor  was  covered  with  clean  sawdust, 
and  two  round  tables,  with  chairs  and  convenient 
cuspidors,  crowded  the  small  space  available.  At 
one  table  sat  three  men,  stupid  with  drink.  Their 
nondescript  dress,  gathered  in  parts  from  the  sea 
ports  of  two  hemispheres,  betrayed  the  merchant 
sailor,  and  their  blonde  heads  and  red  faces  their 
Scandinavian  birth.  They  glanced  with  dead  eyes 
at  the  two  newcomers  and  went  back  to  their  med 
itations  and  mutterings.  Two  men,  sober,  hard- 
faced,  and  keen  eyed,  arose  from  the  other  table 
and  stepped  into  a  rear  room,  but  were  called  back 
by  the  man  behind  the  bar  —  a  large,  brawny 
fellow,  with  beetling  eyebrows  and  a  long  pointed 
nose. 

"  Want  to  sit  down,  gents  ? "  he  said.  "  Good 
fire  in  the  back  room.  Bad  day,  ain't  it  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  ensign,  whose  glance  at  the 

139 


140  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

table  seemed  to  have  prompted  the  man's  sugges 
tion.  "This  —  my  friend  here  is  sick.  Bring 
two  hot  whiskeys,  and  put  a  good  dose  of  ginger 
in  one." 

"  Yes,  sir.     I'll  fix  'im  up." 

Dick  was  in  dire  pain,  unable  to  stand  erect, 
and  too  humble  of  mind  and  weak  of  will  to  resist 
or  resent  the  officer's  assistance.  They  sat  down 
close  to  a  hot  stove  in  the  back  room,  which,  besides 
the  table  and  chairs,  contained  no  furniture  or 
decorations.  A  door  in  the  side  of  the  wall  seemed 
to  lead  to  another  room  and  a  stairway  to  the 
floor  above. 

"  Sailors'  boarding-house,  sir,"  groaned  Dick  as 
he  collapsed  on  the  table. 

The  hot  stimulants  arrived  and  were  quickly 
consumed  ;  then  Mr.  Breen  studied  the  ghastly  face 
opposite  him. 

"  Feel  better,  Halpin  ?  "  he  asked  at  length. 

"Yes,  sir  — a  little." 

"  It  isn't  often,  Halpin,  that  an  officer  gets  a 
chance  to  hobnob  with  a  blue-jacket ;  but  I  want 
to  talk  with  you,  and  you  seem  to  need  it.  Cir 
cumstances  have  brought  us  into  contact  lately  in 
ways  not  prescribed  by  the  regulations ;  and  I  have 
noticed  an  antagonism  on  your  part  which  I  have 
tried  not  to  earn.  Now,  I  want  to  ask  you  —  is  it 
because  I  surprised  you  the  other  day  —  at  a  time 
when  number  three  makes  a  crowd  ? " 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  141 

"  "Well,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  evasively,  preferring 
this  view  of  the  case  to  stand  rather  than  confess 
his  jealousy,  "  Bess  —  Miss  —  the  young  lady  felt 
very  badly." 

"  Naturally  "  said  the  ensign,  with  a  short,  dry 
laugh. 

"  And  then,  sir,"  went  on  Dick,  more  truthfully, 
"  you  put  me  under  arrest  in  my  own  town,  when 
I  thought  —  and  I  still  think  —  that  I  was  in  the 
right.  Then,  to-day,  you  showed  me  up  before 
my  worst  enemy.  There's  an  old  difference  be 
tween  George  Arthur  and  myself." 

"  I  cannot  ask  nor  receive  any  confidences  re 
garding  Mr.  Arthur ;  nor  do  I  wish  to  probe  into 
your  private  affairs;  but,  at  times  —  what's  the 
matter  ?  Are  you  worse  ?  " 

Dick  had  lost  all  sense  of  gravitation  and  physi 
cal  adjustment.  The  walls  were  moving  around 
him  and  separating  from  each  other  and  the  ceil 
ing.  The  table  seemed  tilted,  and  he  gripped  it 
by  the  edges  to  prevent  it  slipping  away,  while 
Mr.  Breen's  earnest  face  was  above  him  looking 
down. 

"  Hang  my  fool  tongue,"  muttered  the  ensign. 
"  The  Lord  only  knows  what's  back  of  this  mix. 
And  —  and  —  what  ails  me,  I  wonder.  Stove 
too  hot  —  I'm  light-headed.  Let's  get  out,  Hal- 
pin." 

Dick    painfully   sat   erect,   lurched    backward, 


142  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

pulled  himself  forward  with  his  hands  and  got  on 
his  feet,  only  to  sink  into  the  chair  again. 

"I'm  drugged,  thir,"  he  said  thickly.  "Look 
outh  —  board'-houthe-crimpth  —  shanghai."  He 
slid  sidewise  to  the  floor  and  lay  still. 

The  officer  scrambled  to  his  feet  and  staggered 
to  the  door,  but  found  it  locked. 

"  Police  !  "  he  yelled.  "  Police  ! "  And  grabbing 
table  and  chairs  for  support,  he  made  his  way  to 
the  side  door,  which  also  was  locked. 

"  Dry  up  in  there,"  said  a  voice  from  the  bar 
room. 

The  ensign  answered  incoherently,  reeled  across 
the  room,  and  fell  to  the  floor ;  then  the  door 
opened  and  the  bartender  appeared,  followed  by 
the  two  men  he  had  called  back. 

"  Shut  the  door,"  he  snarled.  "  Them  Souwe- 
gians  ain't  none  too  full." 

He  searched  the  pockets  of  the  unconscious  men, 
removed  what  was  of  value,  and  said  :  — 

"  Up  stairs  wid  'em.  Get  'em  ready  —  and  get 
them  two  bags  in  the  closet  for  'em.  Hurry  up, 
now.  Tug's  goin'  down  at  eight.  If  they  want 
more  dope,  sing  out." 

He  went  out,  unlocked  the  front  door,  looked  at 
the  three  stupid  men  at  the  table,  took  his  place 
behind  the  bar,  and  the  saloon  resumed  business. 

That  evening  a  tug  steamed  down  the  bay 
through  the  storm.  In  the  warm  pilot-house,  be- 


THE  AGE   OF   IRON  143 

sides  the  tug  captain,  were  a  shipmaster,  a  Sandy 
Hook  pilot,  and  a  boarding-house  runner  —  one  of 
the  two  men  who  had  got  Dick  and  his  officer 
"  ready."  Blood  money  paid  by  captains  for  sail 
ors  is  not  due  until  the  goods  are  delivered ;  so 
this  runner,  as  he  explained  to  the  tug  captain,  was 
going  down  with  the  two  men,  who  had  signed 
articles  that  morning,  had  "  jumped  their  allot 
ment,"  got  drunk  and  been  caught,  and  now  lay 
on  the  forward  deck  in  the  sleet  and  snow  with 
their  heads  pillowed  on  their  clothes  bags  —  sleep 
ing  it  off. 

Before  midnight,  a  ship  put  to  sea ;  and  before 
she  was  two  days  out  the  whole  world  had  arisen 
to  the  news  that  the  United  States  battle-ship 
Maine  had  been  destroyed  in  Havana  harbor. 


BOOK   III 

BARBARISM 
CHAPTER  XXY 

"TTEY,  below,  there!     Hey,  below!    What's 

I  1  the  matter?  Hey?  Heave  out  —  heave 
out.  Out  on  deck  wi'  ye !  "  Dick  heard  diml\% 
groaned  from  the  pain  in  his  head  and  joints,  and 
rolling  over,  went  to  sleep  again. 

It  was  perhaps  not  a  minute,  but  it  seemed  to 
him  hours  later  when  a  hard  fist  knuckled  his 
throat  and  he  felt  himself  being  dragged  forcibly 
outward  and  downward  to  a  bone-wrenching 
collapse  on  the  floor.  Then  again  he  heard  the 
angry,  strident  voice :  — 

"  Get  out  on  deck  to  yer  work,  ye  bloody . 

Out  wi'  ye,  or  I'll  make  ye  wish  ye're  in  h — 1." 

"What  is  it —  what's  up?  "  he  asked  brokenly, 
as  he  looked  up  at  a  figure  standing  over  him  in 
the  flickering  light  of  a  flare  lamp.  Around  him 
were  bunks,  and  on  the  stanchions  between  them 
hung  oilskins,  coats,  and  clothes  bags.  From  the 
open  door  at  the  end  of  the  apartment  the  cold 
wind  of  a  bleak  morning  came  in,  chilly  and 
damp. 

144 


BARBARISM  145 

"  Get  out  o'  this  and  clap  on  to  them  flyin'-jib 
hal'ards,"  bellowed  the  man  above  him.  "  Quick, 
or  I'll  lift  ye." 

Dick  was  not  quick,  either  in  his  movements 
or  in  his  mental  processes;  his  head  was  aching 
and  his  brain  reeling  from  the  effects  of  the 
drug,  and  even  the  fall  to  the  floor  had  not  thor 
oughly  awakened  him  ;  so  he  was  "  lifted  "  —  a 
few  inches,  at  least  —  and  rolled  a  foot  nearer  the 
door  by  the  impact  of  a  heavy  boot ;  but  it  was 
a  rubber  boot,  and  no  bones  were  broken.  Arising 
unsteadily,  he  yielded  to  the  pushes  and  punches 
of  the  other  and  staggered  through  the  door  to 
the  deck  without,  where,  to  the  music  of  flapping 
canvas,  whistling  wind,  and  their  own  discordant 
calls,  men  were  setting  the  flying  jib. 

"  Get  a  holt  o'  them  halyards,"  came  the  voice 
of  authority  in  his  ear,  followed  by  a  blow  that 
launched  him  nearly  headlong  into  the  group 
of  men  hoisting  the  sail.  He  was  accustomed  to 
obey,  but  not  to  being  struck ;  and  when  thor 
oughly  awake  and  able  to  remember  the  events 
of  the  night  before,  and  to  realize  that  he  was 
now  at  sea,  on  board  a  large,  square-rigged  ship, 
he  asked  the  man  nearest  him  for  an  explana 
tion. 

"What  ye  growlin'  'bout,  matey?"  answered 
the  man.  "Ye've  just  run  foul  o'  the  bucko  second 
mate  —  the  boy  bucko.  We've  been  doin'  the 


146  MASTERS    OF   MEN 

same  all  night.  He's  big  enough,  but  too  young 
for  the  noise  he  makes." 

"Then  I've  been  shanghaied,"  groaned  Dick. 
"  Is  Mr.  Breen  aboard  ? " 

"Who  —  yer  side  partner?  He's  aft  wi'  the 
other  watch.  Oh,  ye've  struck  a  sweet  ship, 
matey.  Been  to  sea  before  ? " 

"  In  the  navy." 

"  Whew  —  both  o'  ye  ?  The  Lord  help  ye  then, 
till  ye  larn  yer  work." 

"  Dry  up  that  guff  at  the  hal'ards,"  bawled  the 
officer  from  amidships. 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  answered  the  man  cheerfully. 
"Up  with  her,  lads.  Up  wi'  that  headsail.  Take 
a  hold  here,  matey,"  he  added  in  a  lower  tone  to 
Dick.  "Take  a  hold,  or  ye'll  have  him  at  ye 
again." 

And  Dick  pretended  to  pull  on  the  halyards  — 
which  was  all  that  he  could  do  in  his  demoralized 
condition.  The  sail  was  soon  up,  and  they  trimmed 
down  the  sheet  at  the  noisy  behest  of  the  officer. 
Then  they  were  all  driven  aft  to  assist  others  of 
the  crew  in  mast-heading  the  mizzen  topsail-yard. 
The  strong,  fresh  breeze  was  rapidly  clearing 
Dick's  benumbed  faculties,  and  as  he  hauled  with 
the  others,  he  searched  his  memory  in  the  effort 
to  locate  the  second  mate's  voice.  He  had  heard 
it  somewhere,  he  was  sure,  but  could  not  remember 
where,  and  though  daylight  was  breaking  on  the 


BARBARISM  147 

lee  beam,  it  was  still  too  dark  to  distinguish 
features.  Indeed,  it  was  only  when  the  second 
mate  called,  to  them  to  "  bend  their  backs,"  and 
he  muttered  something  in  reply,  that  he  became 
aware  that  the  unkempt  figure  just  in  front  of 
him  on  the  rope  was  Mr.  Breen. 

"None  of  that,  Halpin,"  said  the  latter  in  an 
undertone.  "  Keep  your  mouth  closed  tight  until 
I  can  talk  with  you.  They've  put  us  in  separate 
watches.  Roused  me  out  at  midnight." 

"  Yery  good,  sir,"  answered  Dick. 

"  And  don't  '  sir '  me  here.  Do  as  they  tell  you, 
and  say  nothing.  We're  in  a  bad  fix." 

Though  the  air  was  now  clear  of  snow,  and  the 
storm  of  the  night  before  had  sufficiently  moder-  . 
ated  to  permit  the  carrying  of  all  three  topsails, 
maintopgallant-sail,  and  flying  jib,  there  was  still 
a  force  to  the  fitful  puffs  of  the  westerly  wind 
and  a  snap  to  the  offshore  sea  which  hammered 
the  ship  and  made  more  sail  inadvisable.  So 
when  the  mizzentopsail  was  up  and  the  yard 
braced,  a  bellowing  roar  sounded  from  the  poop- 
deck:  "Relieve  the  wheel  and  lookout.  That'll 
do  the  watch." 

"  Your  watch  on  deck,  youngster,"  said  Dick's 
friend,  as  they  coiled  up  the  gear.  "No  choice 
between  ye  when  we  lifted  ye  up  the  side ;  but 
the  mate  picked  yer  chum  and  the  second  mate 
picked  you.  Wonder  where  the  bloody  mate  is. 


148  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

Haven't  heard  his  yap  this  watch,  but  he  was 
busy  enough  up  to  midnight." 

"  What  ship  is  this,"  asked  Dick,  "  and  where's 
she  bound  ? " 

"Mary  Earl,  o'  Bath,  Cap'n  Bilker,  o'  Cape 
Cod.  Ever  hear  o'  him  ?  First  mate's  another 
Cape  Cod  murderer,  and  second  mate's  a  bran' 
new  bucko  just  out  o'  the  boy's-room,  I  take  it  — 
not  used  to  bossin'  men,  an'  not  more'n  half  a  sea 
man,  but  a  jim-hickey  with  his  fists.  Guess  you 
an'  me  an'  yer  chum  are  the  only  Americans  for- 
rard.  We're  goin'  out  to  Hong  Kong.  My  name's 
Sawyer,  o'  Hoboken,  an'  I  go  to  sea  to  keep  out 
o'  Jersey.  How'd  ye  come  to  be  shanghaied  ? " 

"  Knockout  drops." 

"  That's  bad.  Stick  to  yer  own  board in'-house. 
Ye'll  be  robbed  all  right,  anywhere,  but  yer  won't 
be  doped  if  yer  'greeable.  Guess  we'll  get  some 
coffee  soon  —  what  they  call  coffee,  I  mean ;  the 
doctor's  turned  out." 

Others  had  coiled  up  the  rest  of  the  gear  and 
the  two  went  forward,  Dick  observing  in  the 
gathering  light  that  Sawyer  was  a  tall,  loose- 
jointed  man  with  a  hooked  nose  and  a  rather 
humorous  cast  of  countenance.  The  "doctor" 
was  up,  smoke  was  corning  from  the  galley  chim 
ney,  and  the  watch  on  deck  were  grouped  under 
the  weather-rail  near  the  fore  rigging,  evidently 
waiting  for  the  early  coffee  served  in  all  American 


BARBARISM  149 

ships  at  "turn-to."  The  other  watch  had  gone 
below,  but  as  Dick  joined  the  group  the  ensign 
appeared  at  the  forward  corner  of  the  house 
and  beckoned  to  him.  He  followed  to  the  top 
sail-sheet  bitts  just  forward  of  the  foremast,  and 
here,  in  an  open  space  which  precluded  listening, 
Mr.  Breen  said  in  a  low  voice :  — 

"  Know  anything  about  the  American  hellshipr 
Halpin?" 

"No,  sir  —  only  what  I've  heard." 

"  Drop  the  '  sir '  while  we're  here.  Fix  the 
habit  upon  you,  or  you'll  get  us  both  into  trouble. 
This  is  a  hellship,  and  the  hellship  is  the  blackest 
shame  resting  upon  America.  I've  had  enough  — 
at  least,  all  I  dare  to  risk.  I  went  aft  and  pro 
tested  to  the  captain  when  they  roused  me  out 
at  midnight,  stating  that  I  was  a  naval  officer. 
I  was  kicked  around  the  poop-deck  and  thrown 
down  to  the  main  deck.  Believe  me  ?  Not  a  bit. 
Thought  I  was  drunk  —  and  to  tell  the  truth,  my 
speech  at  the  time  would  bear  out  such  a  construc 
tion.  "We're  in  rags.  I've  got  a  bagful  more  of 
them,  and  suppose  you  have,  too,  unless  some  one 
has  stolen  them.  Now,  this  much  I  know,  from 
what  I  have  seen  and  heard :  the  mere  presence 
in  the  forecastle  of  an  educated  man  is  a  continu 
ous  menace  to  the  brutes  who  command  and  officer 
such  ships  as  this,  and  is  warrant  enough  for  them 
to  murder  him ;  for  they  know  that  he  is  apt 


150  MASTERS    OF   MEN 

to  make  trouble  ashore.  As  the  law  now  stands 
they  can  punish  an  insolent  sailor  with  a  blow, 
and  if  he  returns  it,  they  may  kill  him.  I  cannot 
convince  them  of  my  identity  —  neither  can  you. 
So  I  shall  resent  no  insults  until  I  am  able  to  act; 
and  as  for  you,  do  as  you're  told,  keep  out  of 
trouble,  —  for  I  may  want  you  in  a  hurry,  —  keep 
your  mouth  shut,  call  me  by  my  last  name,  and 
don't  let  them  see  us  together  too  often." 

Before  Dick  could  reply  the  ensign  was  gone ; 
so  Dick  secured  another  man's  tin  pot  and  his  own 
share  of  the  coffee,  which  had  been  brought  to  the 
port  forecastle.  It  was  vile  stuff  to  begin  with, 
and  had  been  rendered  viler  by  the  molasses  stirred 
in  to  sweeten  it ;  but  it  was  hot,  and  it  warmed 
Dick's  chilled  and  aching  body,  and  cleared  more 
of  the  fog  from  his  brain,  so  that  by  the  time  a 
rasping  "Turn  to,  there.  Buckets  and  brooms. 
Get  out  that  deck-pump  forrard  there  "  came  from 
amidships,  he  began  to  feel  a  lively  interest  in  the 
speaker  —  the  man  who  had  dragged  him  from 
his  sleep  and  struck  him.  He  watched  the  giant 
figure  lumbering  forward,  and  even  stepped  into 
his  path  for  a  better  view  of  his  face.  He  knew 
him.  It  was  Pig  Jones. 


CHAPTER  XXYI 

PIG  JONES,  four  years  older,  grown  to  man's 
physique,  and  with  the  facial  characteristics 
—  slanting  forehead,  protruding  chin,  and  small 
squinting  eyes  —  which  had  given  him  his  nick 
name  among  the  boys,  developed  into  as  un 
pleasant  a  combination  as  may  go  toward  the 
make-up  of  the  human  countenance.  It  was  a 
brutal,  sensual,  cruel  face  —  a  face  bearing  a 
standing  invitation  to  an  honest  fist,  one  that 
most  men  would  feel  pleasure  in  striking.  And 
as  Dick  backed  toward  the  bucket  rack  at  the 
foremast,  it  followed  him  with  a  leering  expres 
sion  strongly  impregnated  with  curiosity,  wonder, 
and  doubt. 

"  Hey,  you ! "  he  cried,  in  a  tone  as  unpleasant 
as  his  face;  "you  the  man  I  pulled  out  at  eight 
bells?  "What's  your  name?" 

"  Billson,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  remembering  the 
ensign's  injunction  as  to  caution,  and  influenced 
in  his  choice  of  a  name  by  the  momentary  com 
parison  with  his  late  antagonist  which  the  officer's 
giant  figure  had  aroused. 

"Billson,  hey?     You  look  bloody  like  a  plug- 

151 


152  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

ugly  I  went  to  school  with.  Look  out  ye  don't 
look  more  like  him,  or  I'll  take  it  out  o'  you." 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  returned  Dick,  submissively,  as 
he  took  down  a  couple  of  buckets.  The  officer 
stepped  toward  him,  searching  his  immovable  face 
for  any  hint  of  sarcasm  behind  the  answer,  and 
finding  none,  thundered  forceful  objurgations  to 
the  rest  to  "get  that  deck-pump  aft." 

In  the  washing  down  of  the  deck  that  morning 
the  second  mate  watched  Dick  continuously,  and 
so  impressed  him  with  his  suspicions  that,  when 
opportunity  offered,  he  requested  Sawyer  to  tell 
no  one  that  he  was  a  man-of-war's-man ;  for  he 
had  reason  to  believe  that  Pig  had  known  of  his 
choice  of  a  career.  And  when  the  watch  turned 
out  at  seven  bells  he  apprised  the  ensign  of  his 
change  of  name  and  his  reasons. 

"  One  of  the  gang,  Halpin  ?  Well,  if  we  are 
any  good  —  you  and  I  —  you'll  have  a  chance  at 
him  before  long.  And  perhaps  not  with  your 
fists.  I'll  do  murder  before  I'll  submit  to  this. 
Now,  Billson,  get  to  work;  here  comes  our 
superior  officer." 

Mr.  Jones  was  coming  forward.  The  ensign 
stepped  into  the  forecastle  to  his  breakfast,  and 
Dick  resumed  his  deck-swabbing.  There  was 
strong  cause  for  the  ensign's  bitter  tone  and 
murderous  mind.  You  cannot  drug,  rob,  and  strip 
a  naval  officer,  dress  him  in  greasy  rags,  swear  at 


BARBARISM  153 

him  and  kick  him  until  he  is  willing  to  pull  wet, 
hard  ropes  through  a  stormy  mid-watoh,  and  have 
him  in  the  mood  of  the  gentleman  —  temperate  of 
mind  and  refined  of  speech.  Dick  was  now  the 
milder  of  the  two.  At  eight  bells  his  watch  was 
relieved  and  he  went  to  breakfast,  — manufactured 
coffee  and  cracker  hash,  the  latter  an  unsavory 
mess  of  broken  hardtack  and  gristly  beef,  soaked 
over-night  and  baked  brown.  Confiscating  as  his 
own  a  last  voyage  pot  with  pan  and  spoon,  he 
helped  himself,  wondering,  as  he  forced  the  stuff 
down,  how  the  well-fed  ensign  had  succeeded ; 
and  there  came  to  him  a  momentary  feeling 
of  ungenerous  and  anarchistic  joy  that  this  pet 
of  society  and  the  government  knew  now  what 
sailors  must  eat.  The  mood  was  but  transient, 
and  left  him  with  the  filling  of  his  stomach,  so 
that  when  a  loud  summons  for  all  hands  to  muster 
at  the  break  of  the  poop  came  in  through  the  door, 
he  walked  aft  with  the  crowd  of  men,  fully  pre 
pared  to  enter  into  any  defensive  and  offensive 
alliance  which  Mr.  Breen  might  propose. 

He  had  rummaged  the  bedless  bunk  in  which 
he  slept  off  his  stupor,  finding  a  damp  canvas  bag 
filled  with  grimy  working  clothes,  and  a  damp 
and  greasy  cap,  which  he  had  donned ;  but  there 
was  no  time  to  change  the  rags  he  wore — drenched 
by  the  storm  in  the  ride  down  in  the  tug — for  dry 
ones,  and  he  stood  in  that  dishevelled  crew  perhaps 


154  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

the  sorriest  looking  of  all.  The  carpenter  seemed 
prosperous,  and  the  cook  shone  in  immaculate 
white ;  but  the  men  were  badly  blest,  by  nature 
and  fate.  Here  and  there  showed  a  clean  article 
of  apparel,  —  a  new  cap  or  hat,  shaming  the  gar 
ments  beneath,  a  new  pair  of  rubber  boots,  a 
new  sou'wester,  or  a  new  sheath-knife  and  belt. 
But  aside  from  these  they  wore  the  patched, 
fringed,  and  tar-bespoiled  garments  of  their  last 
voyage,  and  on  each  face  was  a  common  expres 
sion  of  earnestness  and  hopelessness.  Over  their 
heads  arose  the  Roman  nose  and  humorous  eye  of 
Sawyer,  and  in  the  front  rank  stood  Ensign  Breen 
of  the  United  States  navy,  picturesque  in  his  vest 
ments,  and  with  a  countenance  as  woe-begone  as 
it  is  possible  for  a  shanghaied  graduate  of  Annap 
olis  to  assume.  The  steward  was  at  the  wheel, 
and  scowling  down  on  them  from  the  poop  were 
Mr.  Jones  and  a  gray-bearded  man  who  wore  a 
slouch  hat  and  long  pilotcloth  overcoat,  in  the 
pockets  of  which  he  kept  his  hands.  They  needed 
no  introduction  to  know  the  captain  of  the  ship. 
He  slowly  scanned  each  of  the  twenty  men's 
faces,  paced  a  few  turns  fore  and  aft  on  the  poop, 
then  brought  himself  up  squarely  against  the 
monkey-rail,  his  hands  still  in  his  pockets. 

"My  name's  Bilker,"  he  said  slowly  and  im 
pressively  ;  then,  after  a  moment's  silence,  he  re 
peated  in  a  louder  voice,  "my  name's  Bilker." 


BARBARISM  155 

The  men  shuffled  their  feet  uneasily  under  his 
stare,  but  none  answered. 

"  I'm  John  Bilker,  o'  Provincetown,"  continued 
the  captain,  "and  I've  sailed  ships  out  o'  N'York 
and  Boston  for  twenty -five  years ;  and  I  'low  that 
in  all  that  time  I  never  let  any  measly  gang  o' 
gentlemen  rope-haulers  get  the  best  o'  me.  You 

hear  me  ?  You  hear  what  I  say,  you pack  o' 

poor  men's  dogs." 

He  took  another  walk  along  the  deck  and  re 
turned.  Dick  glanced  over  at  the  ensign  to  note 
the  effect  of  this  language  on  him ;  but  his  de 
jected  face  was  non-commital. 

"  In  all  my  goin'  to  sea,"  went  on  the  captain, 
his  voice  rising,  "  I  never  seen  a  worse  lot  o'  beach 
combers  and  river-thieves.  There  ain't  a  whole 
man  among  you  —  there  ain't  half  a  man ;  but 
there's  a  murderin'  scoundrel  among  you  that  I 
want.  Last  night,  along  'bout  six  bells  o'  the 
middle  watch,  my  first  officer,  all  fagged  out 
from  tryin'  to  get  sail  on  a  ship  with  a  crew 
that  don't  know  a  buntline  from  a  sheet,  was 
woke  up  by  a  sneakin'  thief  goin'  through  his 
desk.  Yes,  sir  —  a  sneakin',  bloody-minded  thief 
that  tried  to  kill  him,  too,  'fore  he  got  thor 
oughly  woke  up.  Then  he  ran  out  on  deck  and 
forrard  to  the  rest  o'  you.  And  that  pore  man 
is  down  there  groanin',  with  his  arm  broken  at 
the  elbow,  while  the  murderin'  thief  that  done 


156  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

it  is  among  you,  laughin'  in  his  sleeve,  and 
wishin'  he'd  finished  his  bloody  work.  Now,  I 
want  that  man  to  step  out  and  own  up." 

Not  a  man  stirred.  They  looked  at  one  another 
with  inquiry  in  their  faces,  then  up  at  their  cap 
tain,  only  to  fall  back,  crouching,  and  scattering 
to  the  right  and  left,  with  involuntary  raising  of 
arms  to  screen  their  faces.  Bilker  had  brought 
his  hands  out  of  his  pockets,  and  in  each  was  a 
bright  revolver. 

"  Shove  him  out,"  he  thundered  as  he  levelled 
the  pistols.  "  Give  up  that  low-down  scoundrel. 
I'll  show  him  what  he  can  do  and  what  he  can't 

do.  Quick,  you dock  rats,  or  I'll  hurt  some 

o'  you." 

"Hold  on,  Cap'n,"  said  Sawyer. 

"  Are  you  the  man  ?     Come  out  here." 

"  No,  Cap'n,  I'm  not,"  said  the  sailor,  stepping 
bravely  up  to  the  poop  steps.  "  I'm  no  thief,  an' 
if  I  was,  I  wouldn't  be  fool  enough  —  hold  on,  sir ; 
I  wish  you'd  point  'em  t'other  way,  sir.  They 
might  go  off.  What  I  want  to  say,  Cap'n,  if  ye'll 
'xcuse  me,  is  that  yer  takin'  a  mighty  poor  way 
to  get  that  thief,  whoever  he  is.  Ye  begin  by 
damnin'  us  all  'round,  an'  that  nat'rally  works 
men  up  against  ye,  and  then  ye  pull  yer  guns. 
Now,  what  man's  goin'  to  own  up  in  the  face 
o'  threats  o'  bein'  shot?" 

"  None  o'  your  back  lip.     Don't  you  talk  to  me. 


BARBARISM  157 

Come  up  here  on  the  poop.  I  swear  I  think  you 
know  all  about  it." 

Sawyer  ascended  the  steps,  was  collared  by  Mr. 
Jones,  and  hurled  against  the  forward  cabin  com 
panion,  near  which  he  remained,  with  the  second 
officer  watching  him  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye. 

"  Where's  that  counter-jumper  who  comes  aft 
when  work's  goin'  on  swearin'  he's  an  officer  in 
the  navy  ? "  demanded  the  captain.  His  eye  wan 
dered  over  the  crowd  and  settled  on  Mr.  Breen. 

"You  the  man?"  he  inquired,  straightening 
one  pistol  toward  him. 

"  It  might  have  been  me,  sir,"  answered  the 
ensign,  mournfully.  "Please  don't  shoot  me, 
sir.  I  had  dreams,  sir.  I  have  been  drugged 
and  kidnapped  on  this  boat,  sir,  but  I  haven't 
done  any  harm,  sir." 

Dick  was  astounded,  but  held  himself  together ; 
and  the  captain,  searching  keenly  the  sorrowful 
face  beneath  his  gun,  said:  "Dreams?  What 
you  drivin'  at?" 

"  I've  always  dreamed,  sir,  that  I  was  an  officer 
in  the  navy,  and  I  was  having  such  a  dream  when 
I  waked  up  on  that  stage  up  there,  sir,  and  you 
were  kicking  me." 

"  You're  no  sailor.     What's  your  trade  ? " 

"I'm  a  gentleman's  man,  sir." 

"What?"  roared  the  captain. 

"A  gentleman's  man,   sir — a   valet.     I   cook 


158  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

welsh  rabbits  late  at  night  for  my  master,  and 
I  wake  him  up  in  the  morning,  and  see  to  his 
bawth,  and  sometimes  I  shave  him,  and  I  always 
have  to  press  his  trousers,  and  answer  the  bell  —  " 

"  That  is,  you're  a  flunkey." 

"That's  what  they  call  us  in  England,  sir."' 

"Well,"  answered  the  Captain,  thoughtfully 
and  contemptuously,  "  I  guess  you  didn't  break 
my  first  mate's  arm."  He  put  his  pistols  in 
his  pockets  and  turned  to  Sawyer. 

"  You  an  American  ? " 

"Yes,  sir,  an  American,"  answered  Sawyer, 
vehemently.  "An  American  and  an  able  sea 
man  ;  and  I've  held  command  —  I'm  no  fool  to 
break  into  a  first  mate's  room  in  this  kind  of  a 
ship  'fore  I'm  twenty-four  hours  aboard." 

"  Held  command  ?     What  in  ?  " 

"Sound  schooners,  sir.  I'm  no  navigator,  but 
I'm  no  fool  thief  —  " 

"  Get  down  on  deck.  Find  out  who  broke  Mr. 
Thorpe's  arm  and  I'll  make  you  third  mate." 

Sawyer  answered  respectfully  and  descended, 
while  Captain  Bilker  ordered  Mr.  Jones  to  set  the 
fore  and  mizzen  topgallant  sails,  relieve  the  steward 
at  the  wheel,  and  dismiss  the  starboard  watch. 
No  doubt  Sawyer's  logic  had  convinced  him. 

Later  on  Sawyer  said  to  Dick :  "  Make  me  third 
mate,  would  he?  If  I  knew  the  hero  that  broke 
that  man-driver's  arm,  I'd  be  a  father  to  him." 


CHAPTER  XXYII 

DICK  would  have  talked  further  with  Mr. 
Breen  before  turning  in,  but,  on  looking 
around  for  him,  discovered  that  he  was  aft  at 
the  wheel;  so  he  changed  his  clothes,  arranged 
what  was  dry  of  his  baggage  beneath  and  above 
him  for  bedding,  and  slept  until  noon,  waking  at 
the  stroke  of  eight  bells  practically  recovered  from 
the  effects  of  the  drug.  On  going  aft  to  the  gal 
ley  at  Sawyer's  sleepy  command  from  an  upper 
bunk  to  "  get  the  grub,  youngster,"  he  found  that 
Mr.  Breen  had  suffered  later  injury  which  had  not 
yet  come  to  him.  He  was  at  the  galley  door  saw 
ing  wood  for  the  cook,  and  his  handsome  face  was 
disfigured  by  a  black  eye. 

"  Kicked  and  thumped  away  from  the  wheel  for 
bad  steering  and  for  not  knowing  the  compass," 
he  said  cautiously,  in  answer  to  Dick's  look  of 
inquiry.  "  Inconvenient  and  unpleasant,  but  nec 
essary  ;  I'm  an  ignorant  landsman.  Remember 
your  part :  do  your  work,  as  a  sailor,  and  avoid 
all  trouble.  See  me  in  the  last  dog-watch.  Go 
ahead,  now.  Get  your  dinner." 

He  shifted  the  stick  of  cordwood  along  the 
sawbuck  and  sawed;  for  Sawyer  —  unknown  by 

159 


160  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

him  —  was  coming  to  help  Dick  bring  the  dinner. 
At  the  same  time  the  carpenter,  with  a  bundle 
of  oakum  under  his  arm  and  a  heavy  calking 
mallet  over  his  shoulder,  appeared  around  the 
corner  of  the  house  on  the  way  to  his  shop,  just 
forward  of  the  galley.  The  carpenter  paused 
before  the  pile  of  wood  at  the  moment  the 
cook's  black  face  appeared  in  the  galley  door. 
He  was  a  particularly  evil-faced  negro,  and  the 
geniality  of  his  race  seemed  denied  him  ;  for  he 
looked  sourly  at  Sawyer  and  Dick,  saying:  — 

"Don't  stand  'round  my  door  axin'  fool  quesh- 
uns,  now.  Dah's  you  poke  an'  peas  —  gov'ment 
whack  fo'  all  ban's  fo'ward  till  you  gibs  up  de 
t'ief.  Take  it  an'  gwan." 

"What's  this?"  asked  Sawyer,  angrily,  as  he 
sniffed  the  mess  in  the  dishpan  handed  out  to 
him.  "Government  'lowance  ain't  much  worse 
than  the  regular  thing;  but  why  don't  you  sift 
out  the  maggots  'fore  you  cook  up  last  v'yage 
peas  ? " 

"  Don't  you  talk  to  me,  you  no  'count  trash. 
Don't  you  tell  me  how  to  cook,  or  I  cut  you  all 
up ;  you  see  ? " 

He  reached  behind  him  and  showed  a  sharp 
carving  knife ;  and  the  fuming  Sawyer  went  for 
ward  with  his  pan,  while  Dick  cautiously  picked 
up  the  pan  of  boiled  salt  pork.  Turning  with  it, 
he  beheld  the  carpenter,  a  large,  bewhiskered,  and 


BARBARISM  161 

dyspeptic-looking  Scotchman,  with  his  hand  on 
Mr.  Breen's  collar.  He  had  dropped  the  bundle 
of  oakum,  but  still  held  the  calking  mallet, 
while  the  cook  still  held  the  knife.  Dick  set 
down  the  pan. 

"  Ye  thunderin'  loon,"  roared  the  big  carpenter 
in  the  ear  of  the  slimly  built  ensign,  "  an'  why  do 
ye  no  go  aft  to  the  poop  wi'  yer  tools  an'  material. 
Wha  put  ye  here,  to  scar  up  a  good  deck  an'  mak 
work  for  a  mon  wi'  plenty  to  do  ? "  He  gave  him 
a  shake,  then  flung  him  against  the  rail.  Dick 
waited  for  orders. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  said  the  ensign,  —  and  only 
Dick  could  detect  the  quiver  of  rage  in  the  humble 
accents,  —  "I  was  told  by  the  captain  to  saw  wood 
for  this  gentleman,  and  he  told  me  to  saw  it 
here." 

"  He  did.  An'  say,"  he  said  to  the  cook ;  "  d'ye 
ken  na  mair  o'  the  value  o'  good  plankin'  than  to 
sanction  this  ? " 

Out  came  the  cook,  his  eyes  gleaming  and  carv 
ing  knife  gripped  tight. 

"  Don't  you  come  'round  inte'ferin'  'tween  me 
an'  my  boy,"  he  said.  "He's  my  boy,  an'  he's 
gwine  to  saw  my  wood  whenebber  I  want  him. 
You  hear  ?  An'  he's  gwine  to  saw  it  jess  where  I 
tell  him,  too ;  an'  if  you  don't  lak  it,  you  go  aft 
an'  talk  to  de  skipper." 

"  I'll  talk  to  the  skipper,  nae  doot,"  answered  the 


162  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

carpenter,  steadily,  as  he  eyed  the  flourished  knife ; 
"  but  the  question  now  is,  are  ye  threatenin'  me 
wi'  that  weepon  ?  If  ye  are,  I'll  get  along  with 
out  him.  Put  it  doon."  He  advanced  toward  the 
cook. 

"  Keep  away  dere,  sah,"  stormed  the  negro,  as 
he  raised  the  knife  high  over  his  head.  "I's  a 
peaceable  man  till  I's  'roused,  but  I's  been  a  bad 
man  in  my  time.  You  hear  — 

The  calking  mallet  struck  him  squarely  over 
the  eyes.  It  was  a  cylinder  of  lignum  vita},  about 
fifteen  inches  in  length  and  three  in  diameter, 
banded  at  the  ends  with  iron,  and  fitted  with  a 
small  foot-long  handle  at  its  middle.  Any  one 
who  has  seen  a  ship-carpenter  or  calker  at  work 
can  understand  the  development  and  mobility  of 
the  wrist-muscles  brought  into  play,  and  with 
these  muscles  alone  the  carpenter  had  sped  the 
mallet  from  his  shoulder  with  the  speed  and  accu 
racy  of  an  Indian's  tomahawk.  The  cook  went 
down,  but  arose  in  a  moment,  smiling,  —  or,  rather, 
grinning,  —  and  looked  wildly  about  for  his  knife, 
which  had  dropped  from  his  hand. 

"Fair  exchange  is  nae  rubbery,"  said  the  car 
penter,  coolly,  as  he  twirled  the  knife  by  its  han 
dle,  "  an'  I  thout  I'd  trade  weepons  wi'  ye ;  but  if 
ye'd  have  mine  ye  maun  go  over  the  seed  for  it. 
It  war  no  constructed  for  armour-piercin',  an' 
caroomed  on  yer  superstructure.  Get  ye  into  yer 


BARBARISM  163 

galley,  ye  swine,  or  I'll  mak  shark  bait  o'  ye. 
An'  I'll  e'en  report  ye  to  the  skipper  an'  keep  yer 
toothpick  for  scrappers."  He  stepped  forward, 
but  the  cook  retreated  into  the  galley. 

"  What's  up  here  ? "  asked  the  second  mate,  ap 
pearing  on  the  scene. 

"  What's  up,  sir,"  answered  Chips,  as  he  turned. 
"  I  war  expostulatin'  wi'  this  Senegambian  about 
the  condeetion  o'  the  deck  gin  his  wood-sawyer 
gets  through,  an'  he  come  oot  wi'  his  assegai ;  an' 
I've  lost  my  best  corkin'  mallet  —  " 

"  Take  this  stuff  forrard,"  said  the  officer  to 
Breen,  the  sleep  of  his  late  watch  below  still  in 
his  eyes.  "  Don't  ye  know  any  more'n  to  saw 
hard  wood  over  a  bare  deck?"  —his  voice  was 
rising  — "  Hey  ?  Don't  ye  know  any  more'n 
that  ? "  he  shouted,  now  thoroughly  awake.  "  Get 
that  dunnage  on  the  fore  hatch,  spread  it  out,  an' 
pile  this  wood  on  it  'fore  ye  do  any  more."  He 
aimed  a  kick  at  Breen,  who  dodged  it  by  an  inch 
and  went  forward  with  his  saw  and  sawhorse. 

"What  are  you  doin'  here?"  demanded  Mr. 
Jones  of  Dick. 

"After  the  dinner,  sir,"  he  answered,  picking 
up  the  pan  of  pork. 

"  Did  he  have  any  hand  in  this,  Chips  ? " 

"  No,  sir.     Merely  a  non-combatant  spectator." 

"  Get  out  o'  this,"  he  said,  and  then,  to  the  car 
penter  :  "  Chips,  you're  to  keep  yer  hands  off  other 


164  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

people,  an'  yer  nose  out  their  business.  I'll  see  to 
the  men,  an'  I'll  do  the  fightin'.  That's  what  I'm 
here  for.  Give  the  doctor  his  knife." 

"  Vara  good,  Mr.  Jones ;  but  I'll  no  stand  quiet 
'fore  a  knife,  I'll  assure  ye  o'  that."  And  the 
knife  whirled  through  the  door  and  rattled  on  the 
brick  flooring  of  the  galley. 

"  All  right ;  an',  Doctor,  you  keep  off  the  deck, 
or  ye'll  have  me  foul  o'  you." 

"  Yes,  sah,"  answered  the  cook  from  within. 

The  dignified  peacemaker  went  aft,  Chips  en 
tered  his  shop  with  his  bundle  of  oakum,  and  the 
incident  ended ;  but  it  was  apparent  to  all  who 
had  seen,  that  henceforward  there  would  be  little 
of  human  brotherhood  between  the  carpenter  and 
the  cook. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

""T~TTHAT  kep'  ye  so  long,  younker?"  asked 
T  T  Sawyer,  as  Dick  entered  with  the  pork. 
His  eight  watchmates  were  seated,  on  boxes, 
buckets,  and  chests,  around  the  dishpan,  picking 
at  what  they  had  taken  out.  He  placed  the  pork 
on  the  floor,  seated  himself  on  a  bucket,  and 
helped  himself  to  the  soup. 

"  Scrap,"  he  answered.  "  Chips  floored  the  cook 
with  a  calking  mallet." 

"  What  for  ? " 

"  Cook  came  out  with  his  knife.  What  kind  of 
provender  is  this,  anyhow  ?  Regular  thing  ? " 

"  Government  allowance ;  but  the  government 
don't  prescribe  that  it  must  be  good." 

"  I  heave  the  whole  bloody  lot  out  der  door," 
said  a  red-faced  German,  arising  with  his  pan. 

"  Steady  as  you  go,  there,  Dutch,"  said  Sawyer. 
"  Ye'll  only  have  to  lick  it  up  in  yer  watch  below. 
Sit  down." 

Dutch  subsided,  and  Dick  spooned  off  a  portion 
of  the  fat  pork.  It  quivered  like  jelly  and  filled 
the  forecastle  with  its  odour.  Nor  did  its  appear 
ance  speak  well  for  it ;  it  was  pale,  greasy  yellow, 
speckled  with  green. 

165 


166  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Dick,  sitting  back  against 
the  bunk  behind  him.  "  I  can  eat  this  when  I'm 
hungry  enough,  but  not  yet." 

"  Plenty  o'  hardbread  in  the  barge,"  said  Saw 
yer  ;  "  we'll  get  our  pound  a  day  when  it's  gone ; 
so  go  easy." 

Dick  munched  hardbread,  —  which  happened 
to  be  fresh,  —  and  the  example  being  set,  one  by 
one  the  men  dumped  their  portions  of  peas  into 
the  dishpan  and  followed  suit.  They  were  a  cos 
mopolitan  crowd,  representative  of  most  maritime 
nations,  and  had  already  learned  each  other's 
names.  Dick  had  given  them  his  alias.  Besides 
Sawyer,  of  Hoboken,  there  were  the  excitable 
German,  "Wagner,  a  fair-haired  Swede  named 
Swanson,  a  thin-faced,  swarthy  Spaniard  who 
gave  the  name  of  Pedro,  and  an  equally  thin- 
faced  and  swarthy  Frenchman  named  Frank, 
Winskel,  a  Russian,  Peter,  a  "West  Indian  negro, 
and  Smith,  a  little,  stoop-shouldered  cockney  with 
a  villainous  accent. 

"We'll  get  this,"  said  Sawyer,  "until  we  tell 
the  skipper  who  done  up  the  mate  last  night." 

"  "Who  it  was  ? "  asked  Wagner. 

"  Don't  know,  an'  don't  care ;  wouldn't  tell  if  I 
did  know.  But  it  was  none  o'  this  watch,  you  bet. 
Billson's  the  only  man  I'd  suspect,  and  he  was 
dopy  all  night."  Sawyer  looked  around  rather 
contemptuously. 


BARBARISM  167 

"  Well,  Hi'll  be  jiggered  if  Hi  can  stand  much 
o'  this  sort  o'  chuck,"  whined  Smith.  "  "Wot's  a 
man  goin'  to  do,  hany  'ow  ?  Gimme  bellyful,  Hi 
say,  an'  then  Hi  can  work  wi'  the  next  man ;  but 
wot  can  any  bloomin'  bloke  do  hif  'alf  starved. 
Hi'm  one  for  goin'  haft  an'  tellin'  the  hold  man 
wot  he  his." 

"Oh,  shut  up!  Te'd  give  a  shipmate  away 
quick  enough,  but  ye  wouldn't  face  anybody  aft." 

"  "Wouldn't  Hi  ?  Just  make  up  the  crowd  to 
back  me,  Hi  say,  an'  Hi'll  do  the  talkin',"  said 
Smith,  arising  bravely  to  his  feet ;  "  an'  hif  ye  can't 
foller  me,  Hi  might  'ave  somethin'  to  say  habout 
who  done  hit."  He  looked  steadily  at  Sawyer, 
and  the  long  Jerseyite  also  stood  erect.  He  col 
lared  the  cockney,  shook  him  a  little,  smote  him 
with  the  open  hand  on  one  ear,  changed  hands 
and  smote  the  other,  then  sat  him  down  hard  on 
a  chest. 

"If  I'd  gone  far  enough  to  tackle  the  mate," 
he  said  sternly,  "  I'd  ha'  gone  farther,  an'  been  in 
irons 'fore  this.  Now,  sing  small.  You  know  that 
it  takes  a  better  lot  o'  men  than  this  crowd  to 
go  aft  with  any  kind  o'  bluff.  You  know  what 
it  means,  in  a  Yankee  ship,  to  go  aft  with  a  kick 
about  grub  or  anything  else.  Ye'll  get  nothin' 
but  abuse,  and  if  ye  stick  out,  ye'll  get  buckshot." 

The  cockney  was  rather  dazed,  and  remained 
quiet  until  he  recovered. 


168  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

"  I  dont  know  'bout  dot,"  said  Wagner,  puffing 
vigorously  to  give  draught  to  his  pipe.  "  In  my 
last  ship  we  go  aft  und  we  kick  about  der  duff  dot 
had  no  plooms  by  it,  an'  der  skipper,  he  coom  down, 
an'  he  look,  an'  he  give  hell  to  der  steward,  an' 
we  get  plooms." 

"  What  country  ship  was  it  ? "  demanded  Sawyer. 

"  English  —  Dunlock  Castle" 

"  The  difference  'tween  heaven  and  hell.  This 
is  a  Yankee  ship  with  a  Yankee  skipper  an'  mates. 
I'm  a  Yankee  —  at  least,  an  American  —  an'  kinder 
proud  o'  my  country ;  but  I'm  not  proud  o'  some 
o'  the  products,  an'  I'd  rather  be  in  hell  without 
claws  than  aboard  of  a  Yankee  ship  wi'  the  mates 
down  on  me.  Don't  talk  to  me  'bout  goin'  aft  'less 
yer  ready  to  murder  the  after-guard  an'  take  the 
ship.  What  then  ?  Can  ye  navigate  ?  Is  there  a 
man  here  that  can  even  cook  the  grub  ?  Not  one. 
S'pose  ye  could.  .  Only  a  matter  o'  time  when 
ye'd  hang.  They  always  get  ye.  But  ye  couldn't 
get  that  far.  Think  of  it :  here's  the  skipper  with 
his  shotgun  and  pistols,  the  big  second  mate  — 
mate  now  —  steward  with  a  gun  in  his  fist,  Chips 
with  his  broad-axe,  an'  the  cook  with  a  knife.  An' 
the  cook's  a  whole  team  by  himself.  Made  a 
knife-play  on  me  'cause  I  kicked.  What  did  Chips 
do,  Billson?" 

"Made  a  row  over  the  woodpile  scarring  the 
deck,  and  ill-treated  the  cook's  assistant." 


BARBARISM  169 

"  There  ye  are.  Unless  ye're  ready  to  kill  that 
cook,  kill  the  second  mate  —  any  one  here  like 
to  try  that?  —  kill  Chips,  an'  kill  the  skipper,  ye 
might  as  well  shut  up  'bout  goin'  aft  with  a  kick." 

"  I  know  dat  cook,"  said  Peter,  the  West  Indian. 
"  He  don'  'member  me,  but  I  'member  him.  I 
see  um  in  Havana ;  take  um  three  policemens  put 
him  in  jail." 

"  Ver'  bad  temper,  zat  cook,"  said  Frank ;  "  zis 
morning  I  get  ze  coffee,  and  he  say  I  get  out  or 
he  scald  me.  "What  for  ?  I  do  not  know." 

"  Tell  him  to  soak  his  head." 

"  No.  What  for  ?  I  take  ze  coffee  —  I  get  out. 
It  is  not  pleasawnt  to  be  scald." 

"  I  was  in  a  bark  out  o'  Baltimore,"  said  Swan- 
son,  the  Swede,  "  and  der  cook  was  a  nigger  like 
dis,  and  he  give  us  all  der  goot  t'ings  he  steal 
from  der  steward  ;  and  den  he  take  care  and  shake 
out  der  weevils  from  der  bread  'fore  he  soak,  and 
he  boil  der  beef  in  fresh  water,  and  he  steal  dat 
water  —  " 

"  And  what'd  ye  do  for  the  cook  ? "  demanded 
Sawyer,  with  a  grin. 

"  Oh,  we  bring  his  coal  from  der  fore  peak,  and 
shop  his  wood,  and  wash  his  shirts  —  " 

"  Like  a  slave,"  interrupted  the  disgusted  Dick. 
"  D'ye  call  yourself  a  man  ?  Say,  Sawyer,  admit 
ting  that  the  after-guard  runs  the  watch  on  deck, 
does  the  cook  run  the  watch  below  in  these  ships  ? 


170  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

Does  the  cook  do  as  he  likes?  Hasn't  he  a 
boss  ? " 

"  Steward." 

"And  is  the  steward  responsible  for  the  way 
our  grub  is  served  —  responsible  for  this  ?  "  He 
pointed  to  the  pan  of  pea  soup. 

"  Partly.  But  I  reckon  our  steward  don't  dic 
tate  much  to  this  cook.  Notice  him?  He  ain't 
bigger'n  a  pint  o'  cider." 

"  Ya-as,  it  was  der  steward,"  said  "Wagner. 
"  He  tell  der  doctor  to  give  us  our  whack.  Der 
old  man  didn't  say  notting." 

"Well,  Hi'll  tell  yer  wot  Hi'm  goin'  to  do," 
said  the  rejuvenated  Smith.  "  Hi'm  goin'  to 
bryke  his  bloomin'  fyce  in  first  time  Hi  catch  'im 
forrard  o'  the  galley  door." 

"I  yump  on  him  mineself,"  added  Swanson, 
approvingly. 

"  And  I'll  *  yump '  on  you  if  you  do,"  said  Saw 
yer.  "  Steward  isn't  to  blame." 

"  Yes,  it  wass  ze  steward,"  said  the  Frenchman. 
"  He  weigh  out  ze  beef  and  ze  pork ;  he  give  ze 
cook  his  ordaire.  We  mus'  punish  ze  steward  for 
zis." 

Pedro,  the  Spaniard,  and  Winskel,  the  Russian, 
understood  English  better  than  they  spoke  it ; 
and  their  approving  nods  and  gestures  added  to 
the  steward's  indictment.  But  before  they  had 
formulated  a  plan  of  punishment  one  bell  (half- 


BARBARISM  171 

past  twelve)  sounded  on  deck,  and  they  went  out 
to  relieve  the  other  watch,  Dick  consistently  car 
rying  back  to  the  galley  the  dinner  he  had  brought 
—  the  pork  dumped  into  the  pea  soup  and  the  full 
pan  fitted  into  the  empty. 

As  he  passed  the  carpenter  shop,  Chips,  who 
stood  in  the  door  with  a  sober  countenance,  halted 
him  by  a  gesture. 

"  Ye  war  a  weetness,  young  man,  war  ye  not," 
he  said,  "  o'  that  cook's  ungovernable  temper  and 
unwarranted  assault  upon  me  ?  Leesten  ;  hark  ye 
to  that.  Heard  ye  ever  the  like  of  it  ?  He's  been 
a-grindin'  an'  a-sharpenin'  of  his  knife  gone  fifteen 
meenutes ;  an'  I  vara  much  fear  that  it's  for  me." 
Chips's  bilious  face  took  on  a  serio-comic  expres 
sion  of  terror  which  brought  a  grin  to  Dick's  ; 
but  he  listened,  and  heard  the  "  wheese,  wheech  " 
of  a  knife  grating  on  a  butcher's  steel  in  the 
galley. 

"  He's  after  you,  Chips,"  he  said,  as  he  passed 
on.  "You're  done  for."  The  knife-grinding 
ceased  as  he  stopped  at  the  galley  door,  and  the 
cook  appeared — with  empty  hands. 

"You  take  dat  stuff  back,"  he  snarled,  as  he 
looked  at  the  contents  of  the  pan.  "What  you 
t'ink  I  want  wi'  dat?  Dump  it  overboa'd." 

"  Dump  it  yourself,"  answered  Dick,  forgetting 
the  ensign's  injunction  to  avoid  friction  in  his 
resentment  of  the  cook's  manner  and  tone. 


172  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

"  Wha'  you  say  ?  Hey  ?  You  talk  lak  dat  to 
me?" 

Dick  still  held  the  dishpans  in  his  hands ;  and 
as  the  villainous  black  face  leaned  toward  him  — 
the  teeth  bared,  the  eyes  glittering,  and  the  angry 
contusion  in  the  middle  of  the  forehead  rising  high 
out  of  a  network  of  wrinkles  and  swollen  veins  — 
he  obeyed  an  impulse  born  of  anger,  racial  hatred, 
and  disgust.  He  lifted  the  pans,  tilted  them,  and 
pushed  them  bodily  toward  the  evil  face  before  him. 
They  landed  squarely,  and  the  cook  was  deluged 
with  the  mess ;  it  ran  down  his  face  and  neck  and 
flooded  the  floqr,  and  as  he  blindly  struck  the  pans 
from  his  head,  he  slipped  and  fell.  By  this  time 
Dick  was  far  away  —  around  the  forward  corner 
of  the  house  with  his  watchmates,  receiving  in 
structions  from  Mr.  Jones.  It  was  an  exploit  that 
brought  a  glance  of  disapproval  from  the  ensign 
as  Dick  sped  past  his  woodpile,  but  joy  inexpressi 
ble  to  the  dyspeptic  carpenter,  who  had  witnessed 
from  his  door.  As  for  Dick,  he  thought  only  of 
consequences  —  which  was  natural. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

DICK  worked  in  the  rigging  all  that  after 
noon,  and,  though  within  shouting  distance 
of  Mr.  Jones,  he  was  surprised  at  the  absence  of 
any  comment  or  criticism  from  the  officer,  who, 
throughout  the  whole  watch,  spoke  harshly  to  the 
others.  Perhaps  this  was  because  he  was  doing 
his  work  properly  —  perhaps  because  Mr.  Jones 
and  the  carpenter  ate  together  at  the  second 
cabin  table,  and  at  dinner  the  latter  had  told  how 
Dick  had  ducked  the  cook.  He  was  strongly 
confirmed  in  the  latter  guess  when,  from  his 
perch  aloft,  he  saw  the  officer  pause  at  the  galley 
door,  where  the  cook,  half  in  and  half  out,  de 
claimed  to  him  with  violent  gesticulation.  Dick 
could  not  hear,  but  when  the  angry  black  face, 
shiny  with  soap,  was  turned  up  to  him  and  a 
grimy  black  forefinger  pointed  at  him,  he  had 
no  doubt  that  he  was  the  subject, of  conversation. 
Mr.  Jones  merely  pushed  the  cook  into  the  galley 
and  went  away. 

The  storm   had   passed,  and,  though  the  wind 
was  still  out  of  the  west,  there  was  no   chance 
for  the  sea  to  rise  very  high  so  close  to  land,  and 
173 


174  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

the  ship,  with  all  sail  set,  was  riding  smoothly 
out  to  sea.  It  was  famous  weather  for  work.  At 
three  bells  the  watch  below  was  turned  out  — 
Ensign  Breen  going  wearily  back  to  his  wood 
pile —  and  by  supper  time  the  two  anchors  were 
stowed  inboard,  the  cables  sent  below,  with  fen 
ders,  mooring  chains,  gangway  davits  and  grating, 
and  nearly  all  the  chafing  gear  was  aloft  and  in 
place.  Through  it  all,  Dick,  working  at  seaman ly 
tasks,  looked  down  on  his  officer  sawing  wood. 
At  first  he  felt  an  ungenerous  pleasure,  due  to 
his  bitterness  of  heart;  then  he  wondered  at  the 
ensign's  courage  in  choosing  so  hard  a  part,  and 
at  his  fortitude  in  playing  it,  and  at  last  he  felt 
an  honest,  manly  indignation,  based  upon  his 
training  and  respect  for  an  officer  of  the  navy. 
As  he  came  down  to  his  supper  at  three  bells 
in  the  first  dog-watch,  the  haggard  look  in  the 
ensign's  face  and  his  slow,  deliberate  movements 
in  piling  the  wood  he  had  sawed  moved  Dick  to 
an  explosive  burst. 

"  Say  the  word,  sir,"  he  said  between  his  teeth 
as  he  halted  before  him,  "and  I'll  brain  them 
both  with  a  handspike.  I  can  do  it  —  one  at  a 
time." 

"  You  cannot,"  answered  Breen,  wearily.  "  You 
might  disable  one,  but  the  other  would  shoot 
you.  And  if  you  did  succeed  —  what  then  ? 
Anarchy  among  the  men.  That  could  be  quelled 


BARBARISM  175 

with  powder  and  shot ;  but  the  final  result  —  you 
would  hang,  and  I  could  not  save  you.  Leave  it 
to  me.  I  am  working  it  out,  and  they  do  not 
hang  government  officers." 

Dick  went  to  supper.  There  was  some  villainous 
tea,  sweetened  with  molasses,  which  he  drank,  and 
a  lump  of  cold,  fat,  salt  pork  which  neither  he  nor 
the  rest  could  touch.  The  whole  watch  vented 
their  feelings  in  profanity,  and  vowed  dire  ven 
geance  on  the  after-guard ;  but  little  of  it  found 
form  or  expression  except  in  Smith's  avowed  de 
termination  to  "  bryke  the  bloomin'  steward's 
fyce,"  and  they  supped  as  they  had  dined  —  on 
hardtack. 

Work  was  done  for  the  day  when  they  stepped 
out  at  four  bells.  The  other  watch  had  cleared 
up  the  deck,  and  near  the  fore  hatch  Breen's  wood 
pile  showed  white  and  symmetrical  in  the  gather 
ing  gloom  of  the  chilly  evening.  Dick  sat  upon 
it,  while  his  watchmates  paced  the  deck  under 
the  lee  of  the  weather  rail.  In  a  short  time  the 
ensign  came  out  munching  a  biscuit.  As  he 
seated  himself  by  Dick's  side  there  came  a  sound 
from  the  galley,  "  Wheese,  wheech." 

"  Hear  that,  Halpin  —  Billson,  I  mean  ? "  he 
said  wearily.  "  It's  been  going  all  the  afternoon. 
It's  for  the  carpenter,  if  it  isn't  for  you.  What 
made  you  douse  him  with  the  soup  ?  You've 
made  an  enemy." 


176  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

"And  a  friend,  too,  Mr.  Breen.  Chips  liked 
it,  and  I'm  sure  he  squared  me  with  the  second 
mate." 

"  Please  drop  the  mister  and  the  sir.  Try  to 
remember.  I'm  a  wood-sawyer,  as  Chips  called 
me,  and  assistant  to  a  darkey  cook.  What  do 
you  think  of  my  day's  work  ?  "  Mr.  Breen  looked 
proudly  —  as  proudly  as  an  utterly  exhausted  man 
may  —  at  his  handiwork,  and  lay  down  upon  it. 
"To-morrow  I  must  split  it,"  he  continued. 
"  Abraham  Lincoln  was  a  rail-splitter  in  his  time. 
"Wonder  if  he  ever  got  so  tired  as  I  am  ? " 

"  But  why  is  it  necessary  ? "  asked  Dick.  "  You 
are  certainly  the  best  man  aboard  —  able  to  com 
mand  the  ship,  but  not  used  to  manual  labour. 
Can't  we  drill  it  into  the  skipper's  head  ? " 

"  Go  aft  and  try  if  you  like ;  only,  don't  say 
I  sent  you.  If  I  could  get  into  that  cabin  and 
find  a  loaded  revolver  I  think  I  could  convince 
him,  but  I  see  no  other  way.  When  I'm  able 
to  move  without  pain  I  shall  try  it.  The  skipper 
stands  watch  now,  and  the  first  mate's  confined 
to  his  room ;  so,  with  the  steward  asleep,  the 
second  mate  asleep,  and  the  skipper  on  deck, 
there  might  be  a  chance  to  sneak  in  through  the 
forward  companion  and  get  his  pistols." 

"  Suppose  I  try  it  to-night  ? " 

"Not  to-night.  It  will  need  two  of  us,  and 
to-night  I  could  not  find  energy  to  pull  a  trigger. 


BAKBAKISM  177 

Then,  too,  you  must  not  take  the  initiative.  You 
are  a  sailor,  and  most  maritime  law  is  devised 
for  your  punishment.  I  am  an  officer,  and  to  a 
large  extent  exempt.  I  have  the  government 
behind  me." 

"  What  kind  of  a  crowd  have  you  in  your  watch," 
asked  Dick,  after  a  moment's  thought. 

"No  two  alike  —  all  different:  Dutch,  Swede, 
Dago,  Finn,  and  several  unclassified.  I'm  the 
only  American." 

"  My  side  is  the  same,  excepting  Sawyer.  He's 
a  Jerseyman." 

"  You're  not  thinking  of  organizing  a  mutiny, 
are  you  ?  That  won't  do.  Think  of  the  sensa 
tion  and  the  newspaper  accounts.  Nineteen 
murderous  scoundrels  hanged  for  mutiny.  Let 
me  do  it  alone.  It'll  be  merely  a  naval  officer 
taking  charge  of  a  ship  and  sailing  her  to  port. 
But  who  is  Sawyer?  The  man  who  was  called 
up  on  the  poop  this  morning  ?  " 

"  Yes.  He's  a  good  fellow  and  believes  as  you 
do.  Says  it'll  make  things  worse  to  kick." 

"He's  a  man  I'd  like  to  know.  You're  too 
successful  with  your  fists,  Billson,  properly  to 
appreciate  finesse,  or  to  conduct  a  successful 
mutiny.  Go  get  Sawyer  and  introduce  me.  I'm 
too  tired  to  seek  him." 

Dick  went  among  the  men  and  returned  with 
Sawyer. 


178  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

"  Excuse  my  not  rising,"  said  the  unsubdued 
Breen.  "  I'm  a  little  out  of  form,  and  the  saw 
want's  sharpening." 

"  An'  it's  a  d —  shame,  sir,"  answered  Sawyer, 
sitting  down  on  the  hatch  and  speaking  softly. 
"If  ye  could  only  make  the  skipper  believe  ye, 
it'd  be  all  right.  He  wouldn't  dare  haze  ye  —  oh, 
I  know  an  officer,  sir  (Breen  had  started  up);  I 
put  in  three  years  in  the  service ;  I  could  tell  by 
yer  walk,  and  yer  voice,  and  the  way  ye  carried 
yerself,  an'  when  the  skipper  twitted  ye  about 
makin'  a  bluff,  I  knew  for  sure." 

"  "Well,"  said  Breen,  coldly,  "  I  hope  you  have 
kept  your  knowledge  to  yourself." 

"  No  fear,  sir;  I've  kept  still,  an'  mean  to;  and 
if  I  can  be  of  any  service  to  ye  aboard  this  hell- 
driver  ye  can  call  on  me." 

"  Surely,"  interrupted  Dick,  "  the  three  of  us 
could  take  charge  — 

"  No,  no,"  said  the  ensign,  impatiently.  "  Saw 
yer,  how  about  this  grub  ?  Shall  we  get  such  stuff 
right  along?" 

"  Until  we  find  out  and  give  up  the  man 
that  crippled  the  mate.  We're  on  government 
whack." 

"  The  old  navy  war  ration,  I  suppose ;  but  I've 
passed  upon  and  condemned  naval  stores  much 
better  than  these." 

"  True  enough,  sir.     But  a  good  many  shipown- 


BARBARISM  179 

ers  an'  skippers  buy  up  condemned  navy  stores. 
They're  always  used  up,  somewhere." 

"  And  I  suppose  we  must  find  out  the  man  who 
assaulted  the  first  mate  before  we  have  a  change," 
said  Breen,  musingly.  "  What  will  the  skipper  do 
to  him  ?  " 

"Oh,  he'll  be  ironed,  of  course,  an'  perhaps 
thumped  a  little ;  but  he's  sure  to  be  triced  up  by 
the  wrists  for  eight  or  ten  hours  until  he  confesses, 
or  begs  off,  or  weakens  somehow." 

"  Sawyer,"  and  Breen's  voice  hardened,  "  do  you 
know  anything  about  the  geography  of  the  cabin 
• —  how  the  rooms  are  laid  out  ? " 

"  Why,  yes ;  they're  all  about  alike  in  these 
ships.  The  two  mates'  rooms  are  each  side  the 
forrard  passage  that  the  companion  opens  into. 
Next  aft  is  the  dinin'  room,  with  staterooms  and 
storerooms  along  the  sides,  and  next  is  the  after 
cabin  where  the  old  man  lives.  His  sleepin'  room's 
in  one  corner,  bathroom  in  the  other.  The  after 
companion  stairs  is  between  'em." 

"  Where  does  the  steward  sleep  ? " 

"  In  one  o'  the  rooms  off  the  dinin'  room." 

"  And  the  carpenter  and  cook  ? " 

"  Chips  has  a  little  kennel  off  his  shop  between 
the  two  forecastles.  The  cook  has  a  room  off  his 
galley." 

"  Then,  to  get  into  the  after  cabin  at  night 
when  the  captain  has  the  deck,  a  man  will  have 


180  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

to  enter  by  the  forward  door,  pass  the  doors  of 
two  officers,  either  of  whom  might  be  awake,  and 
pass  the  room  of  the  steward,  who  also  might  be 
wakeful  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Sawyer,  drop  the  '  sir '  before  you  form  the 
habit.  I'm  trying  to  break  off  Billson,  here. 
Where  would  the  skipper  be  likely  to  keep  his 
pistols  ? " 

"  In  his  pockets  until  the  crew  get  settled  down  ; 
then  in  any  good,  dry  place,  I  s'pose.  It's  a  risky 
thing  you're  thinkin'  of.  He'd  be  apt  to  shoot 
you  if  he  caught  you  in  his  cabin  at  night." 

"  Unless  I  shot  him  first.  It  all  depends  on 
those  pistols.  Well,  we'll  see.  Who  is  this  ?  " 

A  man  had  come  forward  on  the  lee  side,  and, 
approaching  them,  now  peered  into  their  faces. 
He  was  a  small-sized  man  of  quick,  nervous  move 
ments,  but  evidently  an  American. 

"  What's  wrong,  Steward,"  asked  Sawyer. 

"  I  reckon  you're  the  man.  I'm  looking  for 
the  man  that  talked  back  this  morning.  You 
him  ? " 

"  Eeckon  I'm  him." 

"  Captain  Bilker  wants  to  see  you  in  the  cabin." 

«  What  for  ? " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"All  right."  Sawyer  arose  from  the  hatch. 
"  I  may  come  forrard  feet  first,"  he  said  to  Breen, 


BARBARISM  181 

"  an'  I  may  go  in  irons,  but  —  take  care  o'  yer- 
selves,  both  o'  ye." 

He  took  the  lee  side  in  going  aft,  but  the  stew 
ard,  who  had  come  this  way,  and  doubtless  found 
it  draughty,  sought  the  shelter  of  the  weather 
rail  in  returning.  He  blundered  into  a  group  of 
Dick's  watchmates,  pacing  up  and  down  in  the 
darkness,  and  then  became  invisible  to  the  two  on 
the  woodpile.  But  his  presence  in  the  crowd  was 
attested  by  his  choked  appeals  for  help,  by  the 
stamping  and  shuffling  of  feet,  the  muttered  oaths 
and  imprecations,  and  the  thuds  and  smacks  of 
fists  and  open  hands.  At  last,  just  as  Dick  and 
Breen  understood  and  resolved  to  interfere,  he 
shot  out  of  the  crowd,  followed  by  a  whirling 
belay  ing-pin,  dashed  past  them  across  the  fore 
hatch,  and  with  head  lowered  and  elbows  elevated 
sped  aft  on  the  lee  side. 

"  That's  because  he's  a  small-sized  man,"  said 
Dick.  "  They  blame  him  for  the  way  the  cook 
served  the  grub.  I  wonder  if  they  would  tackle 
the  cook,  or  the  skipper." 

"  Hardly,  I  think,"  answered  Breen,  absently. 
He  remained  silent  a  moment,  then  said  :  "  He 
didn't  appear  to  be  injured ;  but  what  would  hap 
pen  if  they  disabled  him?  Who  would  do  his 
work  ? " 

"  Cook,  I  suppose." 

"Don't  think    so  —  and   his  own,  too;    if  one 


182  MASTERS    OF    MEN 

could  do  both  they  wouldn't  carry  two.  If  the 
steward  was  put  out  of  commission,  Billson,  some 
one  would  take  his  place  in  the  cabin.  I  am  the 
likeliest  man." 

"  Want  me  to  do  it  ? "  asked  Dick,  surmising  the 
drift  of  Breen's  thoughts. 

"  No,  no  —  by  all  means  —  no.  Only  as  a  last 
resort.  He  seems  a  harmless  man.  I  was  only 
thinking  —  and  —  I  want  only  the  run  of  that 
cabin  for  ten  minutes." 

"  How  about  the  cook  ?  He's  apt  to  make  some 
kind  of  demonstration  soon  on  account  of  the  soup. 
Suppose  I  put  him  out ;  it'll  be  a  pleasant  job." 

"  And  then  you'll  go  in  irons.  No,  I  need  you 
intact  and  free.  If  we  could  get  some  one  else  to 
do  it  ? " 

"Chips?" 

"I've  no  love  for  him.  He  was  rather  harsh 
and  unkind  to-day.  I  wouldn't  sorrow  much 
to  see  him  ironed  for  killing  the  cook,  or  the  cook 
ironed  for  killing  him.  However,  it  won't  be 
necessary.  The  skipper  must  stand  watch  until 
the  mate  recovers,  and  when  the  pain  is  out  of  my 
bones  I  mean  to  sneak  into  his  cabin.  I'm  in  his 
watch,  you  see,  and  it'll  be  easy  on  a  dark  night, 
along  toward  morning,  when  he  is  busy  on  deck, 
and  the  others  are  sound  asleep." 

Sawyer  came  round  the  corner  of  the  house  and 
joined  them. 


BARBARISM  183 

"  Going  aft,  third  mate,"  he  said.  "  The  skipper 
don't  want  to  stand  watch.  But  I  wouldn't  tell 
him  who  the  man  was." 

"  Do  you  know,"  asked  Breen. 

"  Yes ;  skipper  explained  how  he  broke  the 
mate's  arm.  Mate  turned  out  and  clinched  him  in 
the  darkness,  but  the  man  broke  away ;  then  the 
mate  struck  out  at  his  face,  and  the  man  ducked 
and  caught  his  wrist  in  both  hands,  then,  quicker'n 
lightnin',  he  turned  and  brought  the  arm,  elbow 
down,  over  his  own  shoulder,  an'  hove  down  on  it. 
It's  a  trick  known  to  trained  fighters,  an'  it's  also 
known  in  the  navy.  The  man  was  no  thief ;  he 
only  wanted  the  mate's  pistol,  not  knowin'  that  he 
went  to  bed  with  it." 


CHAPTER  XXX 

SAWYER  turned  and  entered  the  forecastle, 
while  Dick  furtively  glanced  at  the  slim, 
graceful  figure  of  his  officer.  As  events  crowded 
one  upon  another,  he  was  being  forced  to  a  revision 
of  opinion  regarding  his  smooth-voiced  and  gentle 
manly  superior —  this  courageous  and  resourceful 
man  of  action.  He  was  beginning  to  admire  him, 
almost  to  like  him. 

"  It  was  a  foul  trick,"  said  the  ensign  at  last ; 
"  but  what  could  I  do  ?  He  was  a  large,  heavy 
man.  I  had  suffered  brutal  treatment  on  deck, 
and  feared  for  my  life.  We  were  taught  that  trick 
sub  rosa,  at  Annapolis,  as  a  resource  in  street  riots, 
when  firing  was  forbidden." 

"You  did  right,"  answered  Dick,  vehemently. 
"  I've  practised  it,  but  have  never  been  forced  to 
use  it.  I  will,  though,  if  necessary  ;  and  then,  too, 
if  you'd  got  the  gun,  you'd  have  shot  him  and  the 
other  two,  before  the  thing  was  over.  There's  no 
fair  play  needed  aboard  this  ship.  It  isn't  under 
stood." 

"  I  wonder  what  use  Sawyer  will  make  of  his 
knowledge,  now  that  he  is  aft  ? " 

184 


BARBARISM  185 

As  though  to  answer  this,  Sawyer  came  out, 
dumped  his  clothes-bag  on  the  hatch,  and  joined 
them. 

"  Don't  fear  that  I'll  give  you  away,"  he  said. 
"  I've  sworn  I  don't  know  anythin'  about  it,  an' 
that'll  stand.  An'  I  want  to  say  that  I  think  ye 
took  the  best  plan  in  playin'  flunkey.  If  ye'd 
acted  yer  natural  self,  an'  shown  yer  knowledge  o' 
ships  an'  sailorizin',  ye  might  ha'  convinced  the 
skipper  —  when  it'd  be  too  late ;  for,  havin'  hazed 
ye  an'  kicked  ye  around,  an'  knowin'  that  as  an 
officer  o'  the  navy  ye  could  make  him  sweat  for  it, 
he'd  think  the  safest  plan  for  him'd  be  to  kill  ye 
with  work,  somehow,  or  shoot  ye  as  a  mutineer, 
an'  put  ye  in  the  log  under  the  name  ye've  got  on 
the  articles,  or  have  ye  knocked  overboard  some 
dark  night." 

"  That's  the  way  I  reasoned,"  said  Breen. 

"  Yes,  an'  ye  reasoned  right.  It's  well  under 
stood  that  a  gentleman,  shanghaied  in  a  Yankee 
ship,  seldom  finishes  the  passage ;  but  as  a  harm 
less  servant  man,  ye'd  have  a  chance  out  o'  yer 
pure  innocence.  It's  best  as  it  is.  Now,  ye'll  be 
in  my  watch,  an'  I'll  make  it  easy  for  ye ;  but 
understand,  after  I've  gone  aft  wi'  that  bag,  I'm 
an  officer,  and  can't  talk  with  ye,  an'  I've  got  to 
forget  all  I've  said  an'  listened  to,  an'  if  I  caught 
ye  in  the  cabin  I'd  have  to  put  ye  out.  Just  the 
same  —  good  luck  to  ye." 


186  MASTERS    OP   MEN 

He  shouldered  his  bag  and  started  aft,  but  turned 
and  rejoined  them. 

"  And,  of  course,  ye'll  understand,"  he  said  to 
Breen,  "  that  my  believin'  in  yer  bein'  a  navy  offi 
cer  won't  help  ye  any  more  now  than  if  I  stayed 
forrard.  I  might  convince  the  skipper  'fore  long. 
So  can  you  'fore  long ;  but  it'll  be  the  worst  thing 
that  could  happen  after  what  has  happened.  Un 
derstand.  You'll  die  —  somehow ;  and  yer  death'll 
go  into  the  skipper's  official  log  as  accidental,  and 
one  o'  the  mates'll  witness  the  entry.  That's  evi 
dence  in  court.  I  can  swear  only  to  my  belief, 
after  yer  dead,  and  that  won't  help  ye.  But,"  he 
added,  significantly,  "  I'll  have  the  lower  bunk  in 
Mr.  Jones's  room."  Then  he  was  gone. 

"There  will  be  somebody  each  side  of  that 
passage,  continually,"  said  Breen.  "  The  thing  is 
boiling  down." 

From  the  darkness  in  the  weather  alley  came 
the  tall  figure  of  the  carpenter.  He  halted,  lis 
tened  a  moment,  then  spying  Dick  and  Breen  at 
the  woodpile,  came  down  to  them,  uttering  a  warn 
ing,  "  Sh-h-h-h."  Over  the  sound  of  the  wind 
and  sea  could  be  heard  the  scraping  of  a  knife  on 
a  steel. 

"Hear  it,  lad,"  he  said  earnestly  to  Dick. 
"  Hear  the  dark  beast  a-grindin'  his  knife  ?  Is  it 
for  me  or  you  ?  Ye  soaked  him  weel  wi'  the  soup, 
an'  I'm  thinkin'  he's  a  mon  to  be  watchful  of. 


BARBARISM  187 

Losh,  but  it  fair  maks  me  nairvous — to  hear  that 
sound." 

"  It's  for  you,"  said  Breen,  guilefully.  "  It's  for 
you.  He  told  me  he  would  kill  you.  Oh,  he  isn't 
afraid  of  you  ! " 

"  Get  ye  oot  o'  this,  ye  time-sairvin'  flunkey," 
said  Chips,  angrily  raising  his  open  hand;  and 
Breen  moved  quickly  —  with  a  billet  of  wood  in 
his  grasp. 

"  He  says,"  persisted  Breen,  from  a  safe  distance, 
"  that  he  won't  allow  you  or  any  one  else  to  lay 
hands  on  me  again.  He  says  you're  nothing  but 
a  white-washed  Irishman — " 

"  Hush,  ye  bag  o'  bad  teedings,"  roared  the  exas 
perated  Chips.  "  An  Irishman  am  I  ?  Me,  a 
MacPherson  o'  the  hill  clans !  Oot  o'  my  sight, 
or  I'll  — " 

He  advanced  toward  the  retreating  ensign,  but 
Dick,  grinning  in  the  darkness,  placed  himself  in 
the  way. 

"  Never  mind  that,"  he  said.  "  The  question  is : 
what  about  the  cook  ?  He's  sharpening  that  knife 
for  one  of  us  —  perhaps  both.  What  do  you  think 
we  ought  to  do  ? " 

"  I  canna  tell,"  was  the  mournful  reply.  "  It's 
a  mortal  sin  to  hurt  a  ship's  cook.  He's  a  sacred 
pairson.  Did  ye  no  hear  the  second  mate  call  me 
doon  the  day  ?  But  I  can  try  the  effect  o'  moral 
suasion.  I'll  e'en  put  an  eedge  on  the  broad-axe." 


188  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

He  left  them,  and  soon  from  the  carpenter  shop 
came  to  their  ears  the  rhythmical  thumping  of  a 
grindstone  footboard,  and  the  steady  grating  of 
cold  steel  pressed  against  its  wet  surface.  It 
drowned  the  "  wheese,  wheech "  from  the  galley. 

"The  man  is  frightened,"  said  Dick,  as  the 
ensign  rejoined  him. 

"  So  much  the  better,"  replied  Breen,  depositing 
his  billet  on  the  pile ;  "  he  is  more  likely  to  act. 
Keep  it  up,  and  I'll  stir  up  the  darkey.  There 
goes  eight  bells  —  four  hours  more  for  me." 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

WHEN  the  port  watch  turned  out  at  midnight 
they  found  but  a  gentle  whisper  telling  of 
the  gale  of  the  preceding  night,  and  a  cold,  full 
moon  overhanging  the  southern  horizon.  By  a 
prearranged  schedule  among  the  men,  it  was  Dick's 
trick  at  the  wheel  from  twelve  until  two  ;  and, 
when  the  other  watch  had  been  dismissed,  he  went 
aft  with  a  few  misgivings,  but  thankful  that  wind 
and  sea  were  easy.  He  had  learned  as  much  about 
steering  as  a  man-of-war's-man  may  —  which,  be 
yond  the  technique,  is  very  little  —  but  had  not 
acquired  the  nice  "  sense  of  pressure  "  which  ena 
bles  a  trained  merchant  sailor  to  steer  almost  by 
feeling  alone.  After  repeating  the  course  given 
by  his  predecessor,  and  grinding  the  wheel  over 
and  back  a  few  times  with  unnecessary  vigour,  he 
gradually  brought  the  ship  under  command  ;  and, 
as  his  nerves  were  now  in  good  order,  and  his  judg 
ment  of  the  best,  he  steered  a  course  which  called 
forth  no  objurgations  from  Mr.  Jones,  though  he 
frequently  peered  into  the  binnacle,  and  as  often 
turned  to  look  Dick  squarely  in  the  face.  Then 
he  would  resume  his  pacing  back  and  forth  on  the 
quarter-deck  forward  of  the  after  house.  Twice 

189 


190  MASTERS    OF   MEN 

before  two  bells  had  struck  he  stepped  into  the 
companion  out  of  sight,  and  when  next  he  appeared 
at  the  binnacle  Dick  smelled  liquor  on  his  breath. 
This  time  he  spoke,  thickly  but  good-humouredly. 

""What's  up  'tween  you  and  the  cook?"  he 
asked. 

"  Nothing,  sir ;  I  lost  my  head  and  doused  him 
before  I  thought." 

"  What'd  he  do  ?  " 

"  Only  made  faces,  sir ;  but  he  looked  like  mur 
der,  and  I  let  go." 

"  Ye  doused  him  well  —  'cordin'  to  what  Chips 
says,"  chuckled  Pig.  "  But  look  out  for  him  ;  he's 
a  bad  proposition  ;  knifed  two  last  voyage." 

"  Then  you've  been  shipmates  before,  sir  ?  "  said 
Dick,  hardly  knowing  what  attitude  to  assume. 

"  For  three  years  —  in  fact,  all  my  goin'  to  sea. 
I  ain't  been  long  at  it,"  said  Pig,  proudly.  "I 
licked  a  grown  man  first  voyage,  and  I  took  the 
fight  out  o'  that  nigger  second  voyage,  an'  he's 
afraid  to  look  sideways  at  me  now ;  and  I  licked 
the  second  mate  last  passage  home.  That's  how  I 
step  into  his  place.  That's  what  a  skipper  wants 
in  an  officer.  Learn  all  ye  like  to  —  be  the  best 
seaman  on  earth,  and  'less  ye  can  thump  men,  and 
win  out  every  time,  yer  no  good  aft." 

"  So  I  should  think,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  humbly ; 
"  but  I  don't  think  I'd  do.  I  can  work,  but  I 
can't  fight.  Never  could,  sir." 


BARBARISM  191 

"  Well,  ye  want  to  brace  up  and  learn  to  box, 
and  —  another  thing,  stick  to  yer  skipper,  and  get 
navigation.  I'm  halfway  into  it  now.  No  good 
pullin'  ropes  all  yer  life.  "What  part  o'  the  States 
ye  come  from  ? " 

"  New  York  state,  sir  —  Port  Jervis,"  said  Dick, 
remembering  his  geography. 

"  I'm  a  York  state  boy  myself,"  said  Pig. 
"From  Allville.  Say,  you  do  look  mighty  like 
a  jigger  I  went  to  school  with  —  Kedhead  Halpin  ; 
but  your  hair  ain't  red.  He  shipped  in  the  navy 
and  never  was  heard  from  up  to  when  I  lit  out." 

"  Think  he's  dead,  sir  ?  "  Dick  was  humanly 
anxious  to  hear  of  himself. 

"  Hope  so.  He  was  a  mean  sucker  for  the  size 
of  him.  Give  away  a  whole  raft  o'  fellers  and 
got  'em  into  trouble  with  the  police.  I  wasn't  in 
it,  but  I  was  one  o'  the  gang  that  done  him  up 
for  it.  Then  he  got  fired  out  o'  school  for  stealin', 
and  skipped  the  town." 

"  Oh,  a  thief,  sir,  too,"  said  Dick. 

"Well,  no,  to  give  the  devil  his  due,  he  wasn't 
—  at  least,  he  didn't  take  the  boodle  in  this  case, 
but  it  looked  that  way.  It  came  out  months 
after  he  skipped,  little  by  little ;  he  was  tryin'  to 
shield  the  real  thief,  who  was  a  pet  brother  o' 
the  gal  he  was  stuck  on  —  see  ?  And  he  got  into 
his  boots  in  the  mix.  The  gal  got  dead  on  to  it 
somehow  —  nobody  ever  knew  what  happened  — 


192  MASTERS    OF   MEN 

and  made  her  brother  own  up.  Then  his  dad 
took  'em  both  out  o'  school  —  " 

"  Did  Mabel  do  that  ?  "  burst  in  Dick. 

"  Hey  ?  Say  '  sir '  when  ye  talk  to  me.  Mabel, 
is  it?  Who  said  any  thin'  'bout  Mabel?  Hey? 
That's  the  gal's  name  right  enough,  but  I'd  never 
ha'  'membered  it,  without  hearin'  it.  Mabel,  hey  ? 
I'm  dead  on  to  you,  Dick  Halpin,  and  I'll  make 
you  crawl  'fore  I'm  done  wi'  ye.  What  game 
ye  up  to,  anyhow  ?  Hey  ? " 

"  No  game,  sir,"  answered  the  flustered  Dick. 
"  I'm  only  listening  to  what  you  say  about  other 
people.  I  don't  know  them.  Ho\v  could  I  ?  " 

"  How  could  ye  ?  D'ye  mean  to  say  yer  not 
Red  Halpin  ?  How'd  ye  know  that  gal's  name  ?  " 

"  You  spoke  the  name,  sir,"  said  Dick,  gather 
ing  his  wits,  "  and,  not  knowing  her  other  name, 
or  anything  about  her,  I  repeated  it.  I  was  in 
terested.  Most  girls  wouldn't  have  done  that." 

"I  b'lieve  yer  lyin'.  How  could  I  speak  her 
name  when  I'd  forgotten  it  ?  Hey  ? " 

"  You  must  have  remembered  sub-consciously, 
sir.  I've  read  about  such  things.  Sometimes 
we  can't  remember  things  when  we  try,  but  they 
come  to  us,  and  then  we  forget  again.  You've 
noticed  that,  sir.  I'm  not  your  man,  Mr.  Jones. 
My  name  is  Billson,  and  I  never  heard  of  these 
people  before." 

"  Well,  it's  mighty  queer,  that's  what  I   say  ; 


BARBARISM  193 

and  if  I  find  out  yer  lyin'  to  me,  I'll  make  it  so 
hot  for  ye  that  ye'll  be  glad  to  git  overboard  to 
cool  off." 

He  moved  down  toward  the  lee-rail  and  met  the 
captain  stepping  out  of  the  after  companion. 

"  Now,  look  here,  Mr.  Jones,"  said  the  latter, 
sternly,  "  I  want  you  to  understand  one  thing 
'fore  you're  a  minute  older.  I've  listened  to  this 
pow-wow,  and  let  it  go  on,  wonderin'  when  you'd 
stop.  If  you  don't  know  any  more  than  to  talk 
to  the  man  at  the  wheel,  you'd  better  go  'fore  the 
mast  again  till  you  do  know  somethin'.  You  hear 
me?  Don't  let  me  speak  to  you  again  on  this 
subject." 

"  All  right,  sir,"  answered  the  officer,  sulkily, 
and  the  captain  stepped  up  to  windward  and 
looked  aloft.  Then  he  looked  at  the  compass. 
Dick  had  the  ship  straight  on  her  course,  though 
if  the  captain  had  looked  five  seconds  earlier  or 
five  seconds  later,  he  would  have  seen  her  off  a 
full  point.  Tranquillity  of  mind  is  of  first  impor 
tance  in  good  helmsmanship. 

"  I  think,  Mr.  Jones,"  said  the  captain,  dryly, 
as  he  passed  Pig  on  his  way  to  the  companion, 
"  that  your  yards  will  stand  a  little  attention." 
Then  he  stepped  down,  and  Pig  faced  Dick. 

"  I  get  this  on  your  account,  d —  ye,"  he 
growled.  "  All  right.  Watch  out." 

Then  he  went  forward,  bawling  "  weather  main 


194  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

brace,"  and  Dick  tried  to  adjust  himself  to  the 
new  conditions;  but  during  the  rest  of  his  trick 
and  the  remaining  two  hours  of  the  watch,  which 
he  spent  in  solitude  under  the  topgallant  fore 
castle,  he  had  not  succeeded. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

AT  eight  bells  Dick  mustered  aft  to  be  counted 
with  the  rest  —  as  is  customary  at  the  change 
of  night-watches  —  and  when  his  watchmates  had 
turned  in,  he  again  sought  his  hiding-place ;  for 
he  could  not  sleep  even  though  the  others  had 
ceased  to  discuss  a  project  propounded  among 
them  while  he  was  at  the  wheel.  He  had  felt 
no  interest  when  informed  of  it,  for  he  could 
think  of  nothing  but  his  changed  position. 

Pig's  statement  gave  a  new  colouring  to  each 
action  of  Mabel  Arthur  and  to  each  of  his  own. 
She  knew,  and  had  known  from  nearly  the  be 
ginning,  that  he  was  innocent.  Her  attitude  had 
held  nothing  of  pity  or  contempt,  and  her  strange 
friendliness  and  interest  in  him,  which  he  had 
believed  arose  from  these  two  emotions,  would 
now  admit  of  a  worthier  animus.  Dimly  to  his 
mind  came  the  ensign's  mention  on  board  the 
Vermont  of  her  intercession  in  his  behalf,  of  all 
she  had  done  for  him,  and  he  started  out  on 
deck,  to  call  him  from  the  group  at  the  port 
forecastle  door,  and  ask  a  repetition  and  verifica 
tion  ;  but  there  came  to  him  the  memory  of 
Bessie's  letter  and  the  mention  of  a  diamond 

195 


196  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

ring.  He  must  not  cross-question  a  man  about 
his  fiancee ;  so  he  decided  to  say  and  do  nothing 
at  all.  Breen  may  have  heard  of  his  early  dis 
grace  ;  but  it  was  certainly  of  small  importance 
to  him,  and  an  explanation  might  involve  brand 
ing  the  ensign's  future  brother-in-law  as  a  thief. 
He  realized  that  this  point  of  view  was  at  variance 
with  his  usual  habit  of  mind,  and  felt  the  better 
for  it.  He  was  uplifted,  and  his  love  for  Mabel, 
and  his  reserve  store  of  self-respect,  held  down 
through  the  years  by  the  belief  in  his  bad  reputa 
tion,  now  arose  and  dominated  his  hatred  of  her 
brother  and  his  jealousy  of  Breen. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  mused,  "  this  is  the  way  a  fellow 
must  feel  about  such  things  to  be  a  gentleman  — 
worthy  of  her,  for  instance.  Perhaps  if  I  prac 
tised  feeling  this  way,  I  might  stop  seeing  red 
when  things  go  wrong." 

In  the  latter  speculation  he  was  confirmed  by 
Breen,  whom  he  sought  to  tell  about  Pig's  in 
creased  suspicion  and  promise  of  a  hot  atmosphere. 
Breen,  sleepy,  cross,  and  sore  in  his  joints,  unsym- 
pathetically  ordered  him  to  play  his  part  —  to 
submit  meekly  to  abuse,  oral  and  physical,  in  order 
that  he  could  be  at  hand  when  wanted,  instead  of 
down  below  in  irons. 

"  It'll  do  you  good,"  he  concluded,  "  to  be 
thumped  around  a  little  when  you  can't  thump 
back.  It'll  develop  your  self-control  —  and,  by 


BARBARISM  197 

the  way,  I  suppose  you  know  that  both  watches 
are  going  aft  at  breakfast  time  to  protest  against 
the  menu.  Keep  in  the  background,  and  let  the 
others  talk.  They're  all  brave  enough  for 
talking." 

Dick  turned  in,  and,  being  young,  lost  only  an 
hour  in  getting  to  sleep.  He  awakened  at  seven 
bells  with  the  rest,  and,  as  agreed  upon  among 
them,  ate  no  breakfast,  the  object  being  to  pre 
serve  it  intact  for  the  official  exhibition  at  eight 
bells,  when  the  other  watch  could  join  them. 
There  was  much  talking  about  past  experiences 
of  the  kind  in  which  victory  had  come  to  the 
narrators ;  but  when  eight  bells  had  struck,  they 
emptied  their  pipes  and  arose  to  their  feet  with 
more  or  less  of  anxiety  showing  in  each  face. 
Smith,  true  to  his  word,  bore  the  pan  of  "  cracker 
hash "  with  a  clean  spoon  resting  on  top,  and 
Wagner  carried  the  coffee-pot  and  a  tin  pannikin. 
They  trooped  out,  waited  at  the  main  hatch  until 
the  other  watch  had  obtained  their  breakfast  from 
the  starboard  galley  door,  then  marched  aft  in  a 
body,  and  Smith,  the  spokesman,  told  Sawyer  at 
the  break  of  the  poop  that  they  would  like  to 
see  the  captain.  Sawyer  nodded  warningly,  and 
entered  the  forward  companion.  When  he  came 
out  he  carried  a  double-barrelled  shotgun,  and 
following  him  were  Captain  Bilker  and  Mr.  Jones, 
each  with  the  same  burden,  and  a  tall,  mild-eyed, 


198  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

handsome  man  with  side-whiskers,  who  carried 
his  right  arm  in  a  sling,  and  whom  Dick  had  no 
trouble  in  identifying  as  Mr.  Thorpe,  the  first 
mate.  This  man  held  a  marlinespike  in  his  left 
hand.  As  they  ranged  up  at  the  monkey-rail  and 
looked  down  on  the  men,  the  carpenter  stole  past 
them  and  mounted  the  poop  steps  with  his  broad- 
axe  on  his  shoulder,  the  .cook  followed  with  his 
carving-knife,  taking  a  position  at  the  opposite 
end  of  the  line  from  the  carpenter,  and  the  steward 
emerged  from  the  after  companion  with  a  re 
peating  rifle.  Precautionary  discipline  was  per 
fect.  At  the  first  sign  of  protest  seven  armed 
men  were  prepared  to  listen,  and  the  cook  and 
carpenter  glared  down  on  the  sea  slaves  with  no 
irrelevant  side  glances  at  each  other. 

"  Well,  men,"  said  Captain  Bilker,  as  with  easy 
carelessness  he  rested  his  gun  on  the  monkey-rail 
with  its  two  muzzles  looking  down  on  them,  "  what 
d'ye  want  ? " 

"Just  this,  sir,"  said  Smith,  stepping  out  of  the 
group  with  his  pan  of  hash.  "  We  hain't  lookin'  for 
trouble,  an'  we  don't  want  to  say  nothin'  that'll 
bring  hon  hany  shootin',  sir ;  but  we  just  want  to 
hask  you,  sir,  if  this  is  the  right  kind  o'  chuck  to 
feed  men  on,  sir.  We  hain't  got  nothin'  to  say 
'bout  hit's  bein'  government  whack,  'cause  that's 
hall  we  sign  for ;  but  we  don't  sign  for  maggots, 
sir  —  they're  not  in  the  scale  o'  provisions,  sir." 


BARBARISM  199 

"!N"o,"  remarked  the  captain,  dryly,  "they're 
not ;  you're  getting  them  extra  —  good  fresh 
meat  over  and  above  yer  'lowance.  Mr.  Thorpe," 
he  said,  turning  to  the  first  mate,  "there's  the 
crew  ;  d'ye  recognize  yer  man  ? " 

"  I  do,"  answered  the  officer,  a  peculiar  shine, 
or  sparkle,  in  his  blue  eyes ;  "  that  outlaw  sneakin' 
behind  the  others  back  there."  He  raised  the 
marlinespike  unsteadily  in  his  left  hand,  and  the 
men  below  separated  and  fell  back.  Then  the 
marlinespike  whirled  among  them,  and  Dick  Hal- 
pin  fell  to  the  deck. 

"By  heaven,  sir,"  roared  Sawyer,  "if  this  ain't 
pure  murder  I  never  heard  of  it.  That  man 
wasn't  turned  to  till  four  o'clock  that  morning. 
He  was  doped,  an'  in  his  bunk,  till  Mr.  Jones 
pulled  him  out." 

"  Shut  up,"  thundered  the  captain.  "  Hush,  or 
I'll  put  ye  'fore  the  mast  again.  Sure  o'  yer  man, 
Mr.  Thorpe  ? " 

"  Sure  of  him,  sir  ? "  said  the  mate,  with  a  smile ; 
"  of  course  I  am.  Look  at  the  size  of  him.  Is 
there  any  one  else  in  that  pack  able  to  break  my 
arm  ?  And  I  know  his  face  and  shape.  I  could 
see  him  well  enough." 

"  You're  wrong,"  vociferated  Sawyer,  angrily ; 
"you're  dead  wrong,  Mr.  Thorpe.  That  man 
was  stupid  in  his  bunk  all  through  that  watch. 
Mr.  Jones'll  bear  me  out.  He  turned  him  to  at 


200  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

eight  bells,  too  dopy  to  know  his  name.  Hold  on, 
sir,  don't  point  that  thing  my  way ! "  Mr.  Thorpe 
had  drawn  and  was  nervously  raising  a  pistol  as 
he  looked  at  Sawyer,  but  the  enraged  third  mate 
levelled  the  shotgun,  and  the  pistol  came  down. 
Still  holding  the  gun  horizontal,  Sawyer  backed 
toward  the  rail  and  spoke  to  the  second  mate, 
while  down  on  deck  Breen  helped  Dick  to  his  feet. 

"  Isn't  that  so,  Mr.  Jones  ? " 

It  may  have  been  the  menace  of  the  shotgun, 
or  it  may  have  been  Pig's  surprise  and  shock  at 
the  sudden  felling  of  a  man  before  his  eyes ;  for 
he  was  young  yet.  He  answered  truthfully. 

"  Yes,  he  couldn't  be  waked  up  till  eight  bells. 
I  tried  twice,  and  I  know  that.  It  was  some 
one  else,  Mr.  Thorpe." 

"  Enough  o'  this,"  said  the  captain,  impatiently. 
"  Take  that  man  forrard.  Mr.  Sawyer,  lower  that 
gun,  and  remember  where  you  are.  I  make  all 
'lowances  for  mistakes  o'  judgment,  but  —  put 
that  gun  down.  Yer  on  my  poop  deck." 

"  All  right,  sir,  but  I  couldn't  keep  quiet  under 
this." 

"Now,  men,"  said  the  captain  to  those  below 
him,  "  take  that  fellar  forrard,  and  take  yer  grub 
with  you.  I  don't  want  to  see  it  or  smell  it. 
Ye'll  get  no  different  till  ye  give  up  the  man 
that  crippled  nay  first  mate." 

"'Ow  can  we  do  that,  sir?"   replied   Smith. 


BARBARISM  201 

"He  won't  give  'isself  hup,  knowin'  he's  likely 
to  be  killed.  An'  there's  no  hother  way  to  find 
hout.  Hand  we  can't  eat  this  stuff,  sir." 

"  That'll  do  !     Go  forrard." 

"  Hall  right,  sir,  we'll  go ;  but  can  we  hask  you, 
sir,  hif  you'll  make  the  cook  shake  out  the  maggots 
'fore  he  cooks  up  the  'ash  ?  " 

It  was  a  reasonable  and  a  respectful  request, 
and  possibly  Captain  Bilker  was  impressed  by  it. 
He  hesitated  a  moment,  then  turned  to  the 
steward. 

"  From  this  on,"  he  said,  "  serve  the  men  from 
the  new  stores  ;  serve  'em  the  allowance,  and  not 
an  ounce  more.  Now,  men,"  he  added,  facing 
them  again,  "  I'm  givin'  you  new  grub  for  a  while 
—  one  month,  we'll  say ;  and  if  you  don't  produce 
that  murderin'  thief  by  then,  back  you  go  to 
what  ye've  been  gettin' ;  but  if  you  do,  it's  full 
and  plenty." 

"  Thank  ye,  sir ;  we'll  do  what  we  can." 

They  went  forward,  assisting  Dick.  He  was 
weak  in  the  legs,  somewhat  dazed  from  shock  and 
headache,  and  his  face  was  streaked  with  blood 
from  a  furrow  in  his  scalp  where  the  point  of  the 
spike  had  ploughed. 


CHAPTEK  XXXIII 

"  A  M  I  a  slave,  or  a  convict  ? "  he  asked  weakly, 
-£^-  as  he  sat  on  a  chest  a  little  later.  Breen 
was  bandaging  the  wound  made  by  the  marline- 
spike,  and  they  were  alone  in  the  port  forecastle, 
Dick's  watch  being  at  work  on  deck,  Breen's  in 
the  other  forecastle,  trying  to  eat  the  breakfast. 
"  Isn't  there  any  law  for  these  things  ? " 

"  Plenty  of  law,  but  little  justice,"  answered 
Breen,  with  a  hard  look  on  his  face.  "  Thank  your 
good  luck  that  you  didn't  get  it  between  the  eyes. 
You  know  something  now  about  the  kind  of  men 
they  are,  don't  you  ?  The  mate  thought  nothing 
of  flooring  you  on  mere  suspicion,  and  if  he  had 
killed  you,  would  have  thought  as  little.  Same 
with  the  skipper.  Very  well.  When  we  get  our 
chance  we'll  shoot  to  kill ;  it's  the  only  way. 
Hush  —  here's  somebody." 

The  burly  form  of  the  second  mate  darkened 
the  door,  and  his  unpleasant  voice  said :  — 

"  Come  now,  come  now,  goin'  to  soger  all  the 
watch  ?  Come  out  o'  that,  and  turn  to." 

"Just  a  minute,  sir,"  answered  Breen,  with 
assumed  cheerfulness.  "  I'll  have  him  ready  when 
202 


BAKBAKISM  203 

I've  knotted  these  ends.  He's  lost  blood,  and  he's 
weak,  sir." 

"  What  guff  ha'  you  got  about  it  ? "  Mr.  Jones 
stepped  in,  and  advanced  upon  them.  "  Don't  gi' 
me  any  o'  yer  slack."  He  struck  open-handed  at 
the  ensign's  face  with  force  enough  to  stretch  him 
out  on  the  floor ;  then  he  collared  Dick,  and  held 
him  while  Breen  scrambled  to  his  feet.  The  play 
of  emotion  on  Breen's  disfigured  face  was  unpleas 
ant  to  see,  and  he  looked  wildly  about  him.  Per 
haps  it  was  well  for  all  three  that  there  was  not  a 
knife,  club,  or  implement  in  the  forecastle.  He 
looked  Mr.  Jones  squarely  in  the  eyes  for  a  mo 
ment,  then  looked  down,  and  said  quietly,  but  with 
the  same  tremble  of  rage  in  his  voice  that  had 
marked  his  protest  to  the  carpenter :  — 

"  I  was  only  stopping  the  blood,  sir,  so  that  he 
wouldn't  get  weaker." 

"  Dry  up,  ye  farmer !  " 

He  marched  Dick  at  arm's  length  to  the  door, 
and  actually  kicked  him  through  it.  Dick  fell  in 
a  heap  without,  and  as  he  painfully  sat  up,  then 
stood  up,  he  saw,  faint  and  bloodless  as  he  was, 
the  old  reddish  tinge  creep  over  the  sky,  the  deck, 
and  the  white  paint  work  about  him  —  not  so  brill 
iant  as  of  old,  but  strong  enough  to  remind  him 
of  his  curse  of  temper ;  then  he  thought  of  Breen's 
mastery  of  himself  a  moment  before,  and  by  a 
supreme  effort  of  will  brought  himself  back  to 


204  MASTERS   OP   MEN 

sanity.  The  paint  became  white,  the  sky  gray, 
and  the  deck  the  dingy  hue  it  had  worn.  But  the 
effort  of  will,  in  his  weakened  condition,  cost  him 
his  senses,  and  he  fell  in  a  faint. 

When  he  recovered  consciousness,  he  was  in  the 
same  spot  on  the  deck,  and  above  him  stood  Mr. 
Jones  with  an  empty  bucket,  while  Smith  was 
perched  on  the  rail,  with  a  draw-bucket. 

"  That'll  do  the  water,"  said  the  officer,  and 
Smith  came  down.  "  Now,  then,"  he  roared  at 
Dick,  "  goin'  to  get  up  and  turn  to,  or  d'ye  want  to 
be  tucked  in  yer  cradle  and  rocked  to  sleep  ? " 

Dick  staggered  to  his  feet  and  managed  to 
remain  erect ;  but  he  could  not  speak,  and  things 
looked  hazy  and  indistinct  to  him,  the  second 
mate's  huge  figure  being  nothing  but  an  opaque 
blur.  Then  a  second  blur  moved  into  his  imper 
fect  circle  of  vision,  and  he  heard  the  captain's 
voice. 

"  You  blunderin'  fool  1 "  it  said.  "  You  all-fired 
senseless  idiot,  are  you  tryin'  to  kill  this  man,  jess 
'cause  ye  know  how  ?  Don't  ye  know  when  a 
man's  had  enough,  or  will  ye  ever  know  any  thin'. 
I've  watched  ye  for  the  last  ten  minutes,  bullyrag- 
gin'  a  man  already  under  control,  with  the  rest  o' 
yer  watch  sogerin'  around  doin'  nothin'  and  every- 
thin'  shakin'  aloft.  'Tend  to  yer  knittin'  now,  or 
I'll  have  no  more  o'  ye." 

Mr.  Jones  took  a  hurried  look  around  and  aloft, 


BARBARISM  205 

and  left  them  to  brace  the  yards  for  a  shift  of 
wind.  Captain  Bilker  regarded  Dick,  who,  drip 
ping  wet  and  shivering,  with  face  pale  as  death, 
and  his  bandage  resting  on  one  shoulder,  was  hold 
ing  to  the  pin-rail  for  support. 

"  "What's  yer  name  ? "  he  asked. 

"  R-R-R-ichard  Halpin  —  R-Richard  Billson,  sir, 
—  Richard  H.  Billson,  sir." 

"Well,  Richard  H.  Billson,  are  you  the  man 
that  crippled  my  mate  ? " 

"  N-no,  sir,"  stuttered  Dick.  "  I  never  saw  him 
before  this  morning.  I  was  in  my  bunk  when  that 
happened,  sir." 

"  How  bad  are  ye  hurt  ? " 

"Scalp  wound,  Capt'n ;  but  I'm  weak  —  lean 
hardly  stand  up." 

"  Go  to  yer  bunk.  Peel  off  them  wet  clothes, 
and  I'll  send  the  steward  forrard  wi'  some  medi 
cine  to  keep  down  the  fever.  Take  it,  and  don't 
turn  to  till  ye  feel  like  it.  Yer  no  lazy  man's  clerk, 
I  can  see,  and  I  don't  want  any  sick  men  'board  my 
ship." 

"  Thank  you,  sir." 

Breen,  who  had  remained  awake,  assisted  him 
into  his  bunk,  and  the  steward  came  forward  with 
hot  water,  bandages,  and  medicine,  and  ministered 
unto  him,  with  the  result  that  he  slept  through 
three  watches,  awaking  at  supper  time,  still  weak 
and  nerveless,  but  clear-headed  and  with  appetite 


206  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

to  enjoy  his  supper.  It  was  cold  boiled  beef  and 
hard  bread  ;  but  not  being  more  than  a  year  old, 
it  was  palatable. 

He  found  Breen  sitting  on  the  fore  hatch  staring 
into  the  blackness  under  the  topgallant  forecastle. 
He  inquired  of  Dick's  health,  then  pointed  under 
the  forecastle. 

"  See  it  ? "  he  said.  "  Split  it  all  this  afternoon, 
and  piled  it  —  all  by  myself,  too.  I'm  proud  of 
it — I  really  am.  I  like  to  look  at  it.  It  fasci 
nates  me.  And  the  cook  gave  me  a  piece  of  pie. 
Here's  your  half."  He  handed  Dick  a  small  wedge 
wrapped  in  paper. 

"  No,  no,"  protested  Dick,  with  a  laugh.  "  It's 
good,  of  course,  but  I'm  filled  up,  and  anyhow, 
I'm  more  accustomed  to  junk  and  hardtack  than 
you" 

"  Take  it,"  commanded  Breen,  sternly.  "  Do 
you  think  I've  resisted  the  temptation  to  bolt  the 
whole  piece  for  a  whole  hour,  to  weaken  now? 
Eat  it.  Consider  it  an  order." 

Dick  ate  the  pie.    , 

"  I  thought  for  a  moment,  this  morning,"  con 
tinued  Breen,  "that  I  couldn't  hold  my  luff  — 
when  that  brute  hit  me.  But  I  did  ;  we've  got  to 
submit  and  be  ready  to  act  together." 

"How  did  it  affect  you?"  asked  Dick.  "Do 
you  ever  see  red  when  you're  angry  ?  " 

"No,  do  you?" 


BARBARISM  207 

"  Yery  often.  I  did  this  morning,  when  he 
booted  me  out ;  but  I  was  too  far  gone  to  do  any 
thing.  I  generally  go  crazy." 

"  Bad.  That's  when  men  do  murder.  A  weak 
ness  of  the  vascular  system — I  heard  a  lecture 
about  it  once  —  certain  nerve  centres  fail  to  act, 
and  there's  a  rush  of  blood.  But  it's  all  under 
control  of  the  will.  Just  hold  your  temper." 

"I  did  try  this  morning,  and  it  didn't  last  but  a 
second  or  so.  But  I  dropped." 

"  Keep  on  trying.  You've  got  to,  anyway ;  and 
it'll  do  you  good.  You're  too  good  a  man  to 
hang." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  skipper's  action  in 
sending  me  below  ?  He  can't  be  a  whole  brute." 

"  No  man  is  a  whole  villain  or  a  whole  saint. 
We're  mixtures.  It  was  good  business  to  give 
you  a  chance ;  but  he'll  kick  you,  himself,  if  he 
thinks  it  necessary,  just  as  often  as  would  your 
friend  Pig.  He  kicked  me  right  off  the  poop  ; 
but  perhaps  he  wouldn't  waste  any  kicks  that 
were  needed  elsewhere." 

"And  what  do  you  think  of  the  cook.  Is  he 
sorry  for  you  ? "  • 

"  Not  a  bit  —  he's  a  corruptionist.  He's  as  ner 
vous  as  Chips  —  and  ten  times  more  of  a  cutthroat 
and  coward.  That  pie  was  a  bribe.  I'm  to  watch 
the  carpenter  and  post  the  cook  about  his  inten 
tions.  Begun  already.  Told  him  Chips  was  sharp 


208  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

ening  his  broad-axe  and  means  to  split  his  head 
open." 

"  He  can't  .have  any  love  for  me.  I'm  surprised 
that  he  hasn't  made  some  kind  of  a  break  my  way. 
What  do  you  want  me  to  do  if  he  comes  for  me 
with  that  knife  ? " 

"Eun.  Your  legs  are  long.  But  I  think  he 
won't  bother  you.  He's  a  spiteful  devil,  with 
murder  all  through  him ;  yet  he's  a  rank  coward, 
and  when  I  told  him  you'd  killed  a  coloured  man 
in  Charleston,  another  in  New  Orleans,  and  had 
cleaned  out  a  New  York  cake-walk  he  expressed 
great  curiosity,  and  wanted  to  know  if  you  were 
down  on  all  his  race,  or  merely  him.  Told  him 
you  were  not  particular  who  you  killed,  as  long  as 
it  was  a  coloured  man.  Questionable  business  for 
a  naval  officer  to  be  in,  but  —  all's  fair  in  love  and 
—  hellships." 

Dick  smiled  weakly,  in  the  darkness,  remem 
bering  the  similar  report  he  had  given  Bessie  of 
Breen,  and  both  were  silent  for  an  interval ;  then 
Breen  spoke,  slowly,  as  though  to  himself :  "  'All's 
fair  in  love  and  war,'  they  say  ;  yet  there  are  some 
things  that  are  not  fair —  which  are  decidedly  un 
fair." 

Dick  waited  for  more,  but  nothing  more  came. 
Then  he  thought,  for  the  first  time  since  the  drug 
ging,  of  his  own  unworthy  position  —  that  it  was 
on  his  account  alone  that  this  well-bred  young 


BARBARISM  209 

gentleman  was  in  the  forecastle  of  an  outbound 
ship,  sawing  wood  for  a  negro  cook. 

"  I  know  what  you  refer  to,  Mr.  Breen,"  he  said ; 
"  and,  believe  me,  I'm  sorry  ;  I  wouldn't  have  had 
it  happen  for  the  world." 

Breen  faced  him  squarely  in  the  darkness,  but 
there  was  no  light  for  Dick  to  note  the  expression 
of  his  face. 

"  I  know  I  was  a  fool,"  he  went  on,  "  an  insolent 
fool ;  and  after  putting  it  in  your  power  to  have 
me  court-martialled,  I  find  that  you  preferred 
chasing  me  through  sailor-town  to  help  me." 

"  Oh,"  said  Breen,  with  a  long  breath.  "That's 
what  you  mean  ?  I  wasn't  thinking  of  that.  And 
don't  apologize,  Halpin  —  Billson,  I  mean.  We're 
getting  along  first-rate  now,  and  perhaps  we  can 
get  to  be  good  friends.  There's  much  about  you 
that  I  like  and  admire.  But  when  I  followed  you 
that  evening,  I  hated  you  a  little  bit  more  than  I 
ever  expected  to  hate  a  fellow-man.  I  didn't  do 
it  for  you,  but  for  Miss  Arthur.  And  I  don't 
know  but  I'd  do  it  again,  if  she  asked  me  to." 

It  is  not  pleasant  to  hear  of  being  hated,  even 
though  the  hatred  is  dead.  Dick  did  not  answer, 
and  the  two  sat  silently  on  the  hatch,  staring 
mechanically  at  the  white  sheen  of  the  woodpile, 
forward  of  the  windlass,  each  busy  with  his 
thoughts.  What  Breen's  were,  Dick  could  not 
guess ;  his  own  were  tinged  at  first  with  jealous 


210  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

satisfaction  that  he  was  hated  because  of  Mabel's 
interest  in  him;  then  he  thought  wholly  of  her  — 
the  splendid,  womanly  girl,  who  could  so  strangely 
influence  them  both  —  who  had  held  his  heart 
through  the  years  of  absence,  and  who  could  domi 
nate  this  strong  man  at  his  side ;  then  he  thought, 
with  growing  appreciation,  of  the  rare  character 
of  this  man,  who,  sensitive  and  sore,  hating  him, 
could  yet  risk  life  and  liberty  in  his  behalf — and 
do  it  cheerfully.  Would  he  have  done  as  much  for 
Breen  ?  His  brain  said  yes,  and  his  heart  said  no. 
The  comparison  forced  upon  him  another  query  : 
Which  was  worthiest  of  this  girl?  and  his  head 
alone  answered :  — 

"He  is  a  gentleman:  I  throw  pea  soup  at  a 
darkey  and  run." 

Faintly  over  the  washing  of  the  sea  alongside, 
and  the  soughing  of  the  wind  aloft,  came  the 
"  wheese,  wheech "  of  the  cook  sharpening  his 
knife,  and  Breen  aroused  himself  with  a  shiver. 

"Next  time  you  douse  him,  drown  him.  Hold 
his  head  in  it." 

Which  goes  to  show  that  a  gentleman,  firmly 
established,  may  make  occasional  excursions  —  and 
Dick  understood. 


CHAPTER  XXXIY 

AT  eight  bells  Mr.  Thorpe  resumed  charge 
of  his  watch ;  and,  as  Sawyer  had  proven 
himself  a  capable  officer,  he  was  transferred  to 
the  port  watch  under  Mr.  Thorpe,  while  the 
second  mate  went  back  to  the  starboard  watch. 
This  promised  to  relieve  Dick  of  a  good  share  of 
abuse  from  Pig,  but  promised  additional  trouble 
for  Breen,  who  already  had  earned  the  personal 
dislike  of  the  captain  and  carpenter,  and  now  must 
bear  with  a  watch  officer  who  disapproved  of  him. 
But  Dick  found  that  the  tall,  mild-eyed,  good- 
looking  first  mate  was  a  past  master  of  an  art  in 
which  Pig  was  a  bungling  beginner.  While  this 
broad-shouldered  and  heavy-fisted  young  ruffian 
would  balk  at  no  foul  word  or  epithet,  and  with 
undoubted  courage  would  assault  the  men,  singly 
or  collectively,  on  the  slightest  provocation,  Mr. 
Thorpe,  standing  still  in  one  spot,  with  his  best 
arm  in  a  sling  and  only  a  belaying-pin  in  his  boot 
to  emphasize  his  remarks,  did  more,  in  the  eight 
to  twelve  watch  that  night,  to  lessen  Dick's  self- 
esteem,  than  had  any  other  influence  which  had 
come  into  his  life.  The  mate's  orders  were  cor 
rect —  loudly  spoken  when  necessary,  soft  as  a 
211 


212  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

mother's  murmur  when  the  men  were  near;  but 
there  was  vitriol  in  the  tone,  and  menace  in  the 
slight  dropping  of  his  left  shoulder  and  stiffening 
of  the  arm  toward  the  implement  in  his  boot.  Yet 
it  was  not  this  —  not  these  physical  and  visible 
manifestations  of  power  —  which  could  be  met 
with  like  manifestations  more  or  less  successfully ; 
it  was  the  colossal  egotism  of  the  man  —  the  innate 
and  aggressive  belief  in  himself,  in  his  sacredness 
and  necessity  to  the  world ;  it  was  his  supreme 
contempt  for  these  animals  whom  he  was  forced 
to  oversee,  a  contempt  which  seemed  to  find  ex 
pression  in  resentment  that  they  bore  the  shape 
of  human  beings,  and  dared  to  think,  speak,  and 
suffer  in  a  human  way.  He  used  but  little  pro 
fanity,  and  only  once  had  recourse  to  the  belay- 
ing-pin  —  when  Winskel,  the  Russian,  unwittingly 
passed  to  windward  of  him.  For  this  breach  of 
nautical  etiquette  he  felled  him  senseless  —  prone 
upon  his  back.  Then  he  calmly  stepped  upon  his 
throat  as  he  walked  forward  a  few  paces  to  order 
Wagner  to  go  aloft  to  the  mizzen  royal.  Winskel 
had  taken  the  shortest  road  to  the  rigging,  but 
Wagner  was  better- bred,  and  made  a  detour  to 
leeward.  Dick  escaped  individual  attention  that 
watch,  but  went  to  his  bunk  at  eight  bells  won 
dering  dimly  if  he  was  or  was  not  Dick  Halpin, 
seaman  gunner  —  cock-of -the- walk  in  the  old  Ver 
mont.  He  was  certainly  being  judged  by  stand- 


BARBAKISM  213 

ards  unknown  to  him,  and  condemned  by  this 
judgment. 

At  four  in  the  morning,  under  the  topgallant 
forecastle,  Breen,  in  a  choking  rage,  informed  him 
that  he  had  successfully  run  the  gauntlet  of  the 
sleeping  first  and  third  mates  and  the  steward, 
only  to  find  the  door  between  the  forward  and 
after  cabin  locked  from  the  captain's  side.  Then, 
on  his  way  out,  he  had  been  seen  by  the  wakeful 
steward,  who  arose  from  his  berth,  followed  him, 
and  bore  witness  to  Mr.  Jones  on  the  poop  that 
he  had  caught  him  stealing  the  officers'  night 
lunch  from  the  cabin  table.  Whereupon  Mr. 
Jones  had  called  him  aft  and  forcefully  rebuked 
him. 

"  Still,"  said  Breen,  as  he  rubbed  his  sore  spots, 
"  it's  better  that  the  steward  thought  I  was  after 
the  lunch.  I'll  try  again.  All  I  want  is  one  gun 
and  the  drop.  I'm  sorry  now  that  I  didn't  hold 
to  my  wheel.  It  would  be  easy  some  quiet  night 
to  leave  it  and  run  down  the  after  companion." 

"I  could  do  that,"  answered  Dick,  eagerly; 
"  but  so  far,"  he  added  dubiously,  "  the  first  mate 
hasn't  left  the  poop.  Sawyer  attends  to  every 
thing  forward." 

"  You  would  go  down,  search  the  skipper's  room, 
and  secure  his  pistols,  would  you  not  2 " 

"Why  — yes." 

"  I  would  necessarily  be  forward,  perhaps  asleep. 


214  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

You  would  not  have  time  to  finish  the  search  and 
take  your  wheel  again  —  the  ship  would  come  up 
or  fall  off  and  you  would  be  discovered,  even 
though  you  succeeded  in  finding  the  guns.  You 
would  have  to  shoot  your  way  forward  to  waken 
me.  You  would  have  to  drop  the  first  and  third 
mate  —  for  Sawyer  is  conscientious,  —  you  would 
waken  the  skipper  with  the  noise,  and  you  would 
have  to  drop  him,  too.  Though  the  steward 
would  be  an  easy  problem,  forward  are  the  car 
penter  and  cook,  besides  the  watch  on  deck.  Good 
luck  might  carry  you  through,  but  —  how  often 
must  I  remind  you  of  your  status  under  the  law 
—  of  your  proximity  to  the  gallows?  If  you 
failed  to  reach  me  with  shots  enough  left  in  the 
pistols  to  finish  the  job  and  overawe  the  crew,  you 
would  go  in  irons,  if  you  were  not  killed ;  and 
unless  I  repeated  the  feat  and  succeeded  where 
you  failed,  I  could  not  save  you.  You  are  a  sailor 
before  the  mast,  and  the  law  of  your  country  has 
placed  a  halter  around  your  neck,  only  waiting 
for  action  on  your  part  to  draw  tight  the  knot — 
and  hang  you." 

"But  why  —  how,"  asked  the  puzzled  Dick; 
"how  would  it  be  different  if  you  tried  it  and 
failed?  You  would  go  in  irons,  wouldn't  you?" 

"  Yes,  but  I  am  a  commissioned  officer  of  the 
United  States  navy.  I  could  convince  any  con 
sul,  or  commissioner,  and  save  myself,  though  I 


BARBARISM  215 

cannot  convince  ignorant  brutes  like  these.  But 
it  does  not  follow  that  I  could  save  you.  Both  in 
the  navy  and  in  the  merchant  marine  a  sailor  is 
denied  the  right  of  self-defence:  more  certainly 
is  he  denied  the  right  to  take  the  initiative  in 
assault.  No,  Billson,  you  leave  this  to  me.  "When 
I  get  the  drop,  do  as  I  tell  you,  and  you  will  be 
safe." 

He  went  below ;  and  until  coffee  time  Dick 
paced  the  deck  apart  from  his  watchmates,  won 
dering  at  this  new  phase  of  class  distinction  —  half 
inclined  to  doubt  Breen's  premises.  But  his  in 
tense  earnestness,  and  evident  acquaintance  with 
maritime  law,  with  the  dominating  egotism  of  that 
tall  man  on  the  poop,  finally  decided  the  point  for 
him.  The  mate  would  not  so  dispassionately  have 
felled  him  unless  sure  of  his  ground :  the  ensign 
would  not  so  strongly  insist  on  caution  unless  sure 
of  the  law  and  its  workings.  He  had  been  willing 
to  admit  the  intellectual  and  social  superiority  of 
Breen,  and  was  now  compelled  to  admit  his  legal 
advantage  over  him.  Was  it  from  fault  of  his 
own  ?  No,  he  had  expended  every  energy  in  his 
being  to  make  himself  what  he  was  —  to  trans 
form  the  weak  and  undersized  schoolboy  to  a 
trained  seaman  of  the  navy.  But  he  was  of 
value  only  in  the  navy.  It  had  been  energy  mis 
directed  ;  and  though  it  was  not  his  fault,  the 
remedy  lay  in  his  own  hands.  Again  he  experi- 


216  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

enced  the  fever  of  ambition  that  had  fired  his 
soul  when  he  walked  out  the  country  road  to  Mr. 
Bronson's  farm,  and  later,  when  resolved  to  quit 
the  navy.  Nothing  but  a  war  with  another  naval 
power  would  give  him  a  chance  for  a  commission, 
and  war  was  far  away  from  the  United  States. 
He  must  quit  the  sea,  live  on  land,  and  learn  some 
thing  not  included  in  the  tutelage  of  a  seaman 
apprentice.  But  to  quit  the  sea  he  must  safely 
finish  this  passage;  and  to  do  so  required  that  he 
exercise  self-control  and  moderation  of  speech 
and  manner.  He  must  follow  the  good  advice  of 
Breen,  who  knew  all  that  he  must  learn  to  make 
himself  a  gentleman,  but  who,  probably,  never 
had  thrashed  an  enemy  in  his  life. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

IN  this  frame  of  mind  he  went  to  the  galley 
door  to  get  the  coffee  when,  at  three  bells, 
the  cook's  rasping  voice  had  apprised  the  watch 
that  it  was  ready.  Perhaps  it  was  because  Dick 
was  the  nearest  man  to  the  galley  that  the  cook 
placed  the  coffee-pot  on  the  brick  flooring  far 
enough  from  the  door  to  compel  a  man  reach 
ing  for  it  to  step  over  the  sill.  Perhaps  it  was 
accidental.  Dick  entered  the  galley  bodily,  one 
foot  following  the  other  over  the  sill,  and  as  he 
stooped  for  the  coffee-pot  he  heard  a  snarl  from 
the  cook  at  the  stove  amidships,  and :  "  Get  out  o' 
my  galley,  you  no-'count  trash.  Wha'  you  come 
in  my  galley  fo'?"  Then  he  received  on  his 
breast  and  shoulders  the  contents  of  a  half-gallon 
pot  which  had  rested  on  the  stove  convenient  to 
the  cook's  hand  when  he  entered.  It  was  boiling 
hot  salt  water,  and  a  little  of  it  splashed  his  cheek. 
With  a  furious  cry  of  pain  and  rage  he  shrunk 
back,  then  —  ethical  distinctions  flown  to  the  winds 
—  bounded  across  the  galley  after  the  cook,  who 
picked  up  his  knife  on  the  way  and  retreated,  still 
cursing,  to  the  other  door.  Here  Dick  caught  him ; 
he  wrenched  the  knife  from  his  hands  and  tossed 

217 


218  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

it  away ;  then,  frantic  with  pain,  he  gripped  the 
black  throat  and  squeezed  to  silence  the  vindictive 
voice  —  and  remembered  himself.  He  must  not 
kill.  Then  came  the  thought  that  in  this  passion 
he  had  seen  no  red,  and  again  he  gave  rein  to  his 
rage;  but  he  simply  held  the  inert  cook  by  the 
collar,  and  with  his  free  fist  pounded  his  face  until 
it  lost  most  of  its  human  characteristics.  He  was 
interrupted  by  Sawyer,  who  caught  his  hand. 

"  What  for,  Billson  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Scalded  me,"  answered  Dick,  choking  with 
pain.  "  Scalded  me  for  stepping  into  the  galley 
after  the  coffee.  Feel  my  shirt  —  it's  hot  yet." 

Sawyer  investigated. 

"  You'll  be  all  of  a  blister.  Let  go  the  nigger. 
Get  some  paint  oil  out  o'  the  locker,  and  rub  yer- 
self.  I'll  see  the  old  man  and  tell  him  'bout  this 
business  when  he  turns  out." 

The  negro  sputtered  a  parting  threat  at  Dick  as 
he  slunk  to  his  stove,  and  Sawyer  supported  Dick 
to  the  forecastle,  for  he  was  still  weak  from  the 
loss  of  blood  he  had  suffered  the  day  before.  Here 
his  watchmates,  who  had  secured  the  coffee,  assisted 
in  removing  his  shirt  and  anointing  his  blistered 
shoulders  with  oil.  He  did  not  replace  the  shirt, 
for,  though  the  oil  relieved  the  smarting,  still  there 
was  enough  of  agony  in  the  mere  pressure  of  a 
passing  breath  of  air  to  make  him  wish  for  death 
itself,  rather  than  suffer  contact  with  harsh  flannel. 


BARBARISM  219 

He  sat  on  a  chest  and  drank  his  coffee,  and  when 
the  others  had  filed  out  to  begin  washing  down 
the  deck  he  still  sat  there,  waiting  for  the  captain 
to  turn  out,  when,  in  humanity's  name  alone,  he 
could  expect  relief  from  the  medicine  chest.  But 
he  reckoned  without  Mr.  Thorpe,  who  appeared  at 
the  door  just  after  four  bells  had  struck. 

"  Your  wheel  ? "  he  asked  in  a  quiet  voice. 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  as  evenly  as  was 
possible. 

"  Come  out  and  take  it.  You're  too  fond  of  this 
forecastle.  It's  harder  to  get  you  out  to  your  work 
than  to  run  the  ship.  I've  given  you  time  enough 
to  fix  yourself  up.  Now,  out  o'  this." 

"  All  right,  sir,"  said  Dick,  standing  up  and 
reaching  for  his  shirt.  He  was  a  pitiable  object, 
with  his  haggard  face  contracted  in  pain  and  his 
naked,  blistered  shoulders  shivering  with  cold  and 
the  agony  of  each  movement ;  but  there  was  no 
pity  in  the  mild,  blue  eyes  looking  at  him,  and 
he  knew  better  than  to  appeal.  He  drew  the 
shirt  over  his  head  and  adjusted  it,  while  involun 
tary  wheezing  groans  burst  through  his  tightly 
locked  teeth. 

"  That's  a  little  man,"  sneered  the  mate.  "  Now, 
don't  cry  this  time,  and  next  voyage  you  must 
bring  your  mamma  to  sea  with  you.  Put  on 
your  little  coat  and  your  little  cap,  and  come 
along." 


220  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

And  thus  was  Dick  taught  the  standard  of 
fortitude  required  of  the  American  merchant 
sailor.  He  did  not  assimilate  the  lesson  at  once 
—  he  was  suffering  too  much,  but  as  he  steered 
his  trick  in  bodily  torment,  enough  of  a  dogged, 
helpless  fury  entered  his  soul  to  prevent  his 
asking  the  captain  for  remedies.  And  when  the 
captain,  ill-humoured  before  his  breakfast,  con 
temptuously  stared  him  over  in  response  to  Saw 
yer's  earnest  explanation  of  the  case,  and  remarked : 
u  Steerin'  all  right,  ain't  he  ?  Able  to  work  ? 
What  more  does  he  want  ?  "  he  was  glad  that  he 
had  not  asked,  and  was  bitterly  content. 

He  recovered  as  he  could,  while  the  Mary  Earl 
traversed  the  first  long  leg  of  the  zigzag  which 
sailing  craft  steer  going  south,  and,  turning  the 
corner,  caught  the  southeast  trade  and  sailed 
over  toward  the  South  American  coast.  But 
even  while  still  a  fit  subject  for  a  hospital,  he  was 
not  immune  from  further  ill-treatment  from  his 
superiors.  Sawyer  never  raised  his  hand,  and 
seldom  his  voice,  in  dealing  with  the  men,  and 
found  no  trouble  in  being  understood  and  obeyed  ; 
but  each  man  of  the  crew,  on  an  average  of  twice 
a  week,  suffered  contact  with  Mr.  Jones's  fists  or 
boots,  or  from  the  left-handed  use  of  Mr.  Thorpe's 
belaying-pin,  and  listened  daily  to  Captain  Bilker's 
profanely  expressed  bad  opinion  of  them.  Pig 
kicked  Dick  enthusiastically  at  first,  then  confi- 


BARBARISM  221 

dently  and  carelessly ;  and  one  day,  having 
knocked  him  down,  looked  at  him  with  an  expres 
sion  on  his  dull  face  born  of  an  idea  struggling 
into  his  brain. 

"Great  heavens,"  he  said,  "but  ye  can't  be 
Bedhead  Halpin.  That  boy  could  fight  a  little 
bit." 

"  No,"  mused  Dick,  when  safely  out  of  range ; 
"  I'm  not.  Perhaps  I  never  shall  be  again." 

Three  times  Breen  reported  failure  to  enter  the 
after-cabin  before  finally  giving  up  the  plan ;  and 
almost  daily  he  reported  some  brutal  happening 
of  the  night  before,  or  some  bungling  mistake  on 
Pig's  part  which  had  aroused  the  captain  and 
brought  down  his  wrath. 

"  By  all  signs,  Dick  "  —  he  had  lately  begun 
calling  him  thus  —  "  he'll  not  last  long  as  second 
mate.  There  may  be  a  vacancy  there.  Sawyer'll 
be  second  mate,  but  the  skipper  may  want  a 
third  mate." 

"  Perhaps  not.  The  ship  sailed  without  one, 
and  Sawyer  only  got  aft  because  the  mate  was 
laid  up.  But  if  Pig  comes  forward,  is  there  any 
reason  why  I  shouldn't  take  him  down  a  little 
farther  ? " 

"  None  —  except  that  it  would  call  attention  to 
your  powers  as  a  scrapper.  If  the  skipper  really 
wanted  a  third  mate,  and  we  were  sure  of  it,  you 
might  win  the  promotion  by  your  fists,  as  I  under- 


222  MASTERS    OF   MEN 

stand  that  is  the  usual  way.  But  even  then  you 
couldn't  get  into  the  after-cabin.  No,  let  Pig 
alone  until  I  get  hold  of  a  gun,  or  we  resolve  on 
a  forlorn  hope  with  handspikes.  You're  a  well- 
licked,  self-contained  scrapper  now  — just  the  man 
to  depend  upon  when  the  time  comes." 

"  As  a  last  resort,"  said  Dick  thoughtfully,  "  I 
suppose  we  might,  kindly  and  mercifully,  disable 
the  steward  some  night." 

"  I  wouldn't  hesitate  —  I'm  hanged  if  I  would, 
—  only,  the  little  man  never  comes  forward  of 
the  galley  door  after  dark.  How  is  your  friend 
Chips  coming  on  ? " 

"  Good  —  or  rather,  bad.  I  think  the  tension 
is  unsettling  him.  He  called  me  into  his  shop  the 
other  day  and  showed  me  his. nice  sharp  broad-axe. 
He's  using  his  whetstone  on  it  now,  and  it'll  cut 
a  hair.  He  says  the  cook  sharpens  his  knife  all 
night,  and  it  keeps  him  awake." 

"  That's  bad.  I've  no  particular  love  for  him ; 
but  I  don't  like  the  idea  of  engineering  a  man 
out  of  his  sanity  ;  and  yet  —  I'm  a  cold-blooded 
egotist  where  my  own  sanity  is  concerned.  I 
sometimes  fear  for  myself.  Ever  see  red  now  ? " 

"Not  a  bit,"  answered  Dick.  "I'm  getting 
that  much  good  out  of  this." 


CHAPTEE  XXXYI 

IT  was  the  last  dog-watch,  the  only  time  in  the 
twenty-four  hours  when  both  watches  were 
at  leisure,  and  Dick  Halpin  and  Ensign  Breen 
dared  to  converse  openly. 

They  were  walking  up  and  down  near  the  fore 
hatch.  In  the  alley  between  the  forward  house 
and  the  weather  rail  the  watch  on  deck  was 
gathered  in  groups,  while  the  watch  below  passed 
in  and  out  of  their  own  forecastle,  their  voices 
rising  in  disconnected  murmurs  over  the  rush  of 
the  wind  through  the  rigging  and  the  swash  of 
the  sea.  The  cold  night  of  the  southern  winter 
had  fallen,  and  in  the  northwest  a  half  moon 
shone  brightly,  illumining  between  the  obscura 
tions  of  racing  clouds  every  detail  of  the  deck  and 
top-hamper,  but,  when  hidden,  throwing  the  whole 
fabric  into  shadow  blacker  from  the  contrast. 
Out  of-  the  darkness  at  such  a  moment  came  the  tall 
figure  of  the  carpenter,  who  peered  into  their  faces. 

"  Hist,  lad,"  he  said  cautiously  to  Dick.  "  Come 
awa'.  Come  wi'  me  a  bit." 

He  led  him  over  to  the  rail,  and  lowering  his 
mouth  to  his  ear  whispered :  "  To-night's  the 
night." 

223 


224  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

"To-night,"  repeated  Dick.  "The  night  for 
what?" 

"  To-night's  the  night,"  said  Chips,  impressively. 
"  It's  been  a-tellin'  me  all  the  day.  To-night,  at 
eight  bells  i'  the  last  dog-watch,  he'll  have  his  knife 
sharp  enough  to  suit  him." 

"  What  —  who's  been  telling  you  ?  What  do 
you  mean,  Chips  ?  " 

"  The  voice  —  the  wee  bit  voice  in  my  ear,  lad. 
D'ye  no  hear  it  yersel'  ?  Hear  it  noo  ?  '  Eight  bells 
i'  the  last  dog-watch.'  He's  at  it  noo.  Hear  him 
—  a-grindin'  and  a-scrapin'  wi'  his  butcher's  steel. 
And  he's  gettin'  nought  but  a  wire  eedge  — 
nought  but  a  wire  eedge.  And  he  don't  know, 
the  loon ;  he  don't  know." 

The  carpenter  chuckled ;  and  Dick  listened,  but 
heard  no  sound  of  knife  sharpening. 

"  He  don't  know,"  continued  Chips.  "  But  you 
do,  lad.  Saw  ye  ever  the  like  of  such  an  eedge  as 
I  ha'  put  on  the  broadaxe !  And  he's  nought  but 
a  wire  eedge  on  his  bit  o'  pot  metal."  And  again 
the  carpenter  chuckled  joyously.  Then  he  bolted 
aft  in  the  darkness,  and  Dick  returned  thought 
fully  to  Breen  at  the  hatch. 

"  He  hears  voices,"  he  said  ;  "  and  he  hears  the 
cook  sharpening  his  knife  ;  but  I  couldn't.  He's 
half  crazy.  I  haven't  heard  that  knife  sharpening 
since  he  scalded  me." 

"  Nor  I.     No .  doubt  you  discouraged  him.     He 


BARBARISM  225  • 

would  cheerfully  knife  you  if  he  dared,  but  as  I 
said,  he  is  a  poltroon  from  his  wool  down.  And 
Chips  is  safe  enough  if  he  only  knew  it." 

"  Chips  must  have  been  a  little  touched  before 
it  began.  Otherwise,  why  don't  I  hear  voices  ? 
We're  in  the  same  boat." 

"Difference  of  age,  temperament,  and  brand 
of  lunacy.  You  were  a  little  touched,  too,  and 
I'  m  catching  it.  "What  cures  one  man  kills  another. 
There  goes  eight  bells." 

The  tinkle  of  the  bell  sounded  at  the  wheel, 
and  Breen  stepped  toward  the  large  bell  at  the 
foremast  to  repeat  the  strokes.  Before  he  could  do 
so,  a  hoarse,  blood-freezing  shriek  rang  out  from 
the  lee  galley  door,  and,  amid  startled  exclama 
tions  of  jostled  men,  the  carpenter's  voice  followed 
with  :  "  Help  !  Help !  Murder  ! "  Then  he  sprang 
around  the  corner  of  the  house  and  mounted  the 
fore  hatch. 

"  Shut  up  that  noise  forrard,  there,"  shouted 
Mr.  Jones  from  the  poop.  "  Strike  eight  bells. 
What's  the  matter?" 

Breen  struck  the  bell,  and  the  watch  below, 
already  out  of  the  forecastle,  followed  the  car 
penter,  while  the  others  from  the  weather  alley 
trooped  forward.  The  moon,  suddenly  appearing 
from  behind  a  cloud,  illumined  their  wondering 
faces  and  the  distorted  features  of  the  carpenter 
on  the  hatch.  He  stood  with  arms  raised  over 
Q 


226  MASTERS    OF   MEN 

his  head,  eyes  blazing,  and  lips  drawn  tightly  over 
his  teeth,  while  incoherent  growls  came  from  his 
throat. 

"  Hold  him  ! "  he  screamed  at  last.  "  Hold  the 
black  cutthroat.  Take  awa'  the  knife  —  the  knife 
—  the  knife.  It  has  a  wire  eedge." 

"  It's  all  right,  Chips,"  called  Dick,  advancing 
toward  him.  "  The  cook  isn't  there." 

The  carpenter  turned,  glared  at  him,  and  shrank 
away  from  him. 

"  Back,  ye  murderin'  de'il,"  he  roared.  "  Back 
wi'  ye.  Ha'  ye  no  done  enough  ?  " 

He  bounded  down  to  leeward,  turned  sharply, 
and  rushed  through  the  group  of  men,  scattering 
them  right  and  left.  Aft  he  went,  yelling  cease 
lessly,  meeting  Mr.  Jones  at  the  mainmast  and 
upsetting  him.  He  mounted  the  poop  steps  in 
two  bounds,  sped  along  the  alley,  and  the  crew, 
crowding  aft,  saw  him  poised  for  an  instant  on 
the  taffrail.  Then,  with  a  long,  mournful  wail 
echoing  from  his  lips,  he  disappeared  from  sight 
just  as  the  moon  hid  behind  a  cloud. 

"  Man  overboard  ! "  sang  out  the  helmsman. 
"  Man  overboard  !  " 

"  Put  yer  wheel  down,"  roared  Mr.  Jones 
from  amidships.  "  All  hands  forrard  there. 
Stand  by  braces  fore  and  aft.  Clear  away  that 
lee  quarter  boat.  Hard  down  yer  wheel.  Hard 
down." 


BARBARISM  227 

"  Hard  down,  sir,"  answered  the  man  at  the 
wheel.  "  Hard  down  it  is." 

Men  scattered  to  stations  for  tacking  ship,  and 
Mr.  Jones  hurried  aft,  while  the  ship  came  slowly 
up  to  the  wind.  Dick  was  one  of  the  jib-sheet 
men,  and  he  mounted  the  forecastle  deck,  where, 
as  going  about  on  the  other  tack  was  obviously 
unnecessary,  he  expected  to  do  nothing ;  but  a 
thundering  voice  —  louder  than  Pig's  —  from  the 
poop  changed  the  prospect.  The  captain  was  on 
deck. 

"  Hard  up  that  wheel  —  quick  !  "  roared  the 
voice.  "  Clap  on  to  them  weather  jib  sheets  for- 
rard  there.  Trim  over  to  windward.  Forrard 
all  hands  o'  ye.  Stand  by  weather  forebraces. 
Oh !  "  —  and  the  roaring  voice  took  on  a  note  of 
distress  —  "Oh — oh,  you  d — d  two-ends-an'-the- 
bight-of-a-poor-fool,  just  look  at  my  ship  now ! 
Look  at  her  !  Let  go  to  looward !  Haul  'round 
them  foreyards !  'Round  wi'  'em  !  Box  this  ship 
back  'fore  the  spars  go  !  Get  forrard  out  o'  this, 
you  infernal  lunkhead !  Get  out  o'  my  sight ! " 

Mr.  Jones,  saying  nothing  in  reply,  headed  the 
rush  of  men  to  the  forebraces ;  but  it  was  too 
late.  They  had  not  bent  the  heavy  weather 
canvas  needed  in  those  latitudes,  and  the  old, 
patched-up  rags  aloft  could  not  stand  the  shaking 
they  were  receiving.  Royals  went  first,  then  top- 
gallantsails  and  topsails,  and  before  the  ship, 


228  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

under  the  influence  of  the  backed  foreyards  and 
the  still  intact  lower  foretopsail,  had  begun  to 
swing  back,  nearly  every  sail  aloft,  as  well  as  the 
two  outer  jibs,  was  in  ribbons.  Then  came  in  the 
order :  "  Swing  the  foreyards  and  trim  over-head 
sheets."  Dick,  at  the  forebraces,  heard  Sawyer, 
aft  near  the  quarter  boat,  say :  "  Then  ye  won't 
get  a  boat  over,  sir  ?  " 

"  Boat  over  ? "  yelled  the  captain.  "  Boat  over 
—  for  a  man  crazy  enough  to  jump  ?  Not  for 
the  best  man  aboard.  Let  them  gripes  alone  an' 
'tend  to  yer  work  forrard." 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir."     And  Sawyer  joined  the  others. 

All  hands  remained  on  deck  that  night,  send 
ing  aloft  and  bending  canvas.  It  was  work  that 
needed  light,  and  lanterns  were  lit.  One  of  these, 
shining  in  through  the  galley  door  for  a  moment, 
disclosed  to  the  man  carrying  it  the  body  of  the 
cook,  stretched  out  face  down  on  the  galley  floor, 
with  the  carpenter's  broadaxe  buried  in  his  head. 
He  had  been  struck  from  behind. 

Later  investigation  disclosed  the  carving  knife 
in  its  place  in  the  rack  on  the  bulkhead,  in  com 
pany  with  the  steel,  fork,  and  long  spoons  used  in 
cooking.  It  was  no  sharper  than  it  ought  to  have 
been. 


CHAPTER  XXXYII 

IT  was  Dick's  wheel  from  six  to  eight  next 
morning,  and  when  four  bells  had  struck,  he 
went  to  take  it,  noticing,  in  the  gathering  light, 
the  body  of  the  cook  on  the  mizzen  hatch,  and 
Mr.  Jones  busy  with  the  last  stitches  in  its  canvas 
shroud.  As  he  steered  his  trick,  he  marvelled 
at  the  unofficerlike  character  of  the  work,  then 
remembered  that  through  the  night  he  had  not 
once  heard  the  voice  of  the  second  mate ;  but  it 
was  not  until  seven  bells  had  struck  that  his  guess 
was  confirmed.  The  captain  came  up  the  after 
companion  with  a  Bible  in  his  hand,  and  stepped 
forward  to  the  break  of  the  poop,  while  the  crew, 
at  Sawyer's  call,  mustered  aft  to  the  mizzen  hatch. 
Dick,  at  the  wheel,  could  see  nothing  but  the  tall 
figure  of  the  captain,  and  could  hear  little  but 
his  voice.  He  laid  the  Book  on  the  monkey-rail, 
and  began. 

"  Men,"  he  said  solemnly,  "  we're  mustered  here 
to  give  the  cook  a  send-off  'cordin'  to  rule  —  not 
as  how  I  can  see  as  it's  goin'  to  do  him  any  good 
—  it  seems  to  me  that  if  prayin'  could  do  him  any 
good,  it  oughter  have  come  'long  'fore  he  died. 
Same  with  the  carpenter,  who's  some  miles  astern 

229 


230  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

now.  Just  the  same,  I'll  read  the  sarvice  for  both 
of  'em,  and  which  ever  of  'em  it  fits  the  best,  why, 
I  suppose,  will  get  it.  First  thing,  though,  before 
we  get  rid  o'  the  cook,  we'll  fill  his  place."  Dick 
pricked  up  his  ears. 

"  Now,  you,  there,"  continued  the  captain,  "  you 
big-headed,  bull-headed,  fool-headed  lobster,  that 
thinks  he's  a  second  mate,  you  get  into  that  room 
o'  yours,  and  you  get  your  duds  out  of  it  and  into 
the  cook's  room,  while  I'm  lookin'  at  you.  You 
hear  ?  Not  a  word !  You're  cook  o'  this  ship  from 
now  on,  or  you  go  in  irons  in  the  'tween  deck. 
What  d'ye  say  now  ? " 

The  captain  drew  a  revolver  from  his  pocket, 
and  placed  it  upon  the  Bible.  Dick  heard  muffled 
words  from  the  main  deck,  but  nothing  intelli 
gible.  Then  he  saw  the  captain  replace  the  pistol 
in  his  pocket.  "That's  sensible,"  he  continued. 
"  Let's  see  you  keep  it  up.  Go  in  there,  one  o' 
you,  and  give  him  a  hand  with  his  chest." 

Captain  Bilker  began  pacing  the  poop,  and  ten 
minutes  went  by  before  he  spoke  again ;  then  he 
advanced  to  the  rail,  opened  the  Book,  paused 
while  he  took  off  his  hat  and  jammed  it  into  his 
coat  pocket,  and  read  a  chapter  chosen  at  random. 
Finishing,  he  closed  the  Book,  put  on  his  hat,  and 
waved  his  hand  to  those  below. 

"  Over  with  him,"  he  said,  and  then  stepped  to 
the  rail. 


BARBARISM  231 

One  end  of  the  canvas  sack  circled  into  view 
over  the  edge  of  the  poop,  as  the  body  shot 
through  the  gangway,  and  Dick  heard  the  splash. 
The  cook's  funeral  was  over. 

"  Gawd,"  said  the  captain,  peering  over  the 
side.  "  Reg'lar  belly-gut  dive." 

Whether  it  was  this  remark,  the  grisly  incon 
gruity  of  the  whole  proceeding,  or  a  sort  of 
hysteria  coming  after  his  night  of  fatigue,  with 
an  unsuspected  sense  of  relief  at  the  removal  of 
Pig's  and  the  cook's  menace  as  a  prompting 
agency,  that  brought  it  on,  Dick  never  could  de 
termine.  He  began  to  laugh,  softly  but  uncon- 
strainedly ;  and  when  Captain  Bilker  came  aft, 
Bible  in  hand,  and  glared  reprovingly  at  him,  he 
still  continued. 

"  What's  the  matter  wi'  you  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  N-n-nothing,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  flushing. 

"  Yes,  there  is  somethin',  I  tell  yer.  Somethin' 
up  yer  sleeve,  damn  ye,"  stormed  the  captain. 
"And  I'm  dead  on  to  you,  my  fo'castle  lawyer. 
You're  slick,  but  I'm  slicker.  You  grin  in  my 
face,  will  yer?  I'll  see  'f  my  first  mate  ain't  right, 
after  all.  Mr.  Thorpe,"  he  bawled  forward,  "  call 
all  hands  aft  again."  Then  he  returned  to  the 
break  of  the  poop,  and  Dick,  sober  of  face  now, 
with  no  inclination  to  laughter,  bore  the  malevo 
lent  glances  of  the  insulted  autocrat,  as  he  paced 
back  and  forth  while  waiting  for  the  men. 


232  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

The  starboard  watch  trooped  out  of  the  fore 
castle  from  their  interrupted  breakfast,  and  joined 
the  others  on  their  way  aft.  The  captain  looked 
down  on  them. 

"  I've  given  you  men  a  good  long  time  to  pro 
duce  the  one  that  broke  Mr.  Thorpe's  arm,"  he 
said.  "  Time's  up.  Pass  him  out  at  once,  or  back 
ye  go  to  yer  first  grub." 

Dick  heard  an  indistinct  voice  answering,  and 
then,  from  the  captain  :  — 

"  Ye'll  tell  me  on  the  poop,  hey  ?  What's  the 
matter  wi'  tellin'  where  ye  are  ?  Hey  ?  All  right. 
Come  up  here,  then,  and  no  games." 

Smith,  the  cockney,  arose  to  Dick's  view  on  the 
steps,  and  his  voice  became  intelligible. 

"  Hi've  talked  to  hall  'ands  forrard,  sir,  hand 
we're  hall  hagreed,  though  that's  not  syin'  we 
can  prove  hit,  sir.  But  hall  of  hus  think  has  'ow 
it  was  the  man  you  took  haft  has  a  h officer.  He 
was  quick  to  deny  hit  forrard,  sir,  but  he  was  just 
has  quick  to  swear  hit  wasn't  Billson,  when  the 
mate  thought  hit  was.  He  knowed  who  hit  was, 
sir;  hit  was  'isself,  hand  hall  'ands  thinks  so,  sir." 

"  That'll  do.  Get  down  off  the  poop,"  said  the 
captain.  "  Mr.  Sawyer,"  he  called,  "  step  up  here." 

Smith  went  down,  and  Sawyer  soon  appeared, 
following  Captain  Bilker  aft  through  the  alley. 

"  Mr.  Sawyer,"  said  the  latter,  facing  him,  "  the 
men  accuse  you  of  bein'  the  man  who  broke  into 


BARBARISM  233 

the  mate's  room  first  night  out.  I've  made  you 
second  mate,  and  so  far,  I've  no  fault  to  find  wi' 
you ;  but  I  want  this  settled.  Did  you  ?  Or  was 
it  this  man  here  ?  I  want  the  truth,  now." 

Sawyer  looked  at  Dick,  and  there  was  the  barest 
suspicion  of  a  wink  in  his  humorous  eye ;  then 
he  looked  gravely  and  respectfully  into  the  cap 
tain's  face. 

"  It  was  me,  cap'n,"  he  answered. 

"  You,  was  it  ?  And  why  didn't  you  own  up  to 
it?" 

"  Didn't  want  to  get  shot  or  thumped.  I  was 
'fore  the  mast  then,  cap'n.  You've  made  me  an 
officer,  and  I'm  much  obliged  for  the  favour ;  but 
just  the  same  it  makes  a  mighty  sight  o'  difference 
if  anything  happens  to  me  this  v'yage.  As  man 
to  man  I'm  not  afraid  o'  Mr.  Thorpe  now." 

"But  what  were  you  after?  What  did  you 
want  in  his  room  ?  " 

"Haven't  the  slightest  idea,  sir;  I  was  drunk 
enough  for  any  thin',  but  not  too  drunk  to  fight, 
and  remember  what  happened.  He  struck  at  me, 
and  I  twisted  his  arm.  Now,  cap'n,  you  can  put 
me  forrard  again,  and  take  Mr.  Jones,  or  any  one 
else,  aft  in  my  place ;  but,  remember,  if  anything 
happens  to  me,  I'm  an  officer." 

"  Can  you  square  yerself  wi'  Mr.  Thorpe  ? " 

"  Don't  care  a  rap,  cap'n,  whether  I  can  or  not. 
I'm  second  mate  —  he's  only  first.  He  ran  foul  o' 


234  MASTERS    OF    MEN 

me  on  deck  that  first  night,  and  things  are  kinder 
square  as  they  are." 

Captain  Bilker  walked  over  to  the  weather- 
rail,  and  stared  to  windward,  and  Sawyer  im 
proved  the  occasion  by  winking  solemnly  and 
warningly  at  the  amazed  Dick.  Then  the  captain 
returned. 

"If  I  send  you  forrard  I'll  have  to  take  that 
swine  back  again;  and  I  don't  want  him  —  he's 
more  at  home  in  the  galley,  where  he  put  in  his 
first  voyage.  But  if  I  keep  you  aft,  how'll  you 
get  on  wi'  the  men?  How'll  you  get  on  wi'  the 
mate  ? " 

"  Easy  enough,  sir.  The  men'll  be  much  obliged 
to  me  for  gettin'  them  full  an'  plenty,  as  you 
promised  'em,  sir.  Keep  me  aft  and  they'll  do  as 
I  tell  'em,  just  as  they  have  been  doin'.  Put  me 
forrard,  and  I'll  thump  the  last  man  of  'em  for 
givin'  me  away.  Keep  me  aft,  and  I'll  take  the 
mate's  orders,  do  my  work,  and  know  my  place ; 
but  if  he  runs  foul  o'  me,  I'll  break  his  left  arm 
as  easy  as  I  did  his  right." 

Captain  Bilker  paced  a  few  turns  from  rail  to 
rail,  then  said  :  — 

"All  right.  Settle  it  wi'  the  mate.  I'll  talk 
it  over  with  him  myself.  Send  the  watch  to 
breakfast." 

Sawyer  went  forward,  and  the  captain  turned 
fiercely  on  Dick. 


BARBARISM  235 

"  What  the  h — 1  you  laughin'  at  just  now  ? "  he 
demanded. 

"  At  the  way  the  cook  went  over,  sir,  and  at 
what  you  said,"  answered  Dick,  suddenly  realizing 
that  nothing  was  so  good  as  the  truth. 

Captain  Bilker  studied  him  from  his  head  to  his 
feet,  and  with  a  half  snort,  half  grunt,  went  down 
to  his  breakfast. 


CHAPTER  XXXYIII 

BEYOND  that  comprehensive  wink  to  Dick  at 
the  wheel,  Sawyer  offered  no  explanation  of 
his  vicarious  confession,  and  the  two  friends  rea 
soned  that,  secure  in  his  advantage,  he  had  clone 
it  out  of  the  goodness  of  his  heart,  not  only  to 
relieve  Dick,  and  possibly  Breen,  from  suspicion, 
but  to  throw  the  captain  back  upon  his  promise 
and  secure  better  food  for  the  men.  The  latter 
result  was  attained,  for  Captain  Bilker,  loudly  pro 
claiming  himself  a  man  of  his  word,  ordered  the 
steward  to  give  them  "full  and  plenty"  —  which 
meant  the  addition  to  the  government  allowance 
of  a  few  of  the  substitutes  and  an  additional  quart 
of  water  per  diem. 

What  difference,  if  any,  Sawyer's  confession 
made  in  his  relations  with  Mr.  Thorpe  never  be 
came  known  in  the  forecastle.  Work  went  on 
without  apparent  friction  between  the  two,  and 
much  more  smoothly  as  regarded  the  men.  It 
was  as  if  the  tragic  deaths  of  the  cook  and  car 
penter  had  exercised  a  humanizing  effect  on  Mr. 
Thorpe;  for,  though  his  tongue  was  as  bitter  as 
ever,  he  rarely  raised  his  belaying-pin  from  his 
boot.  As  for  Pig,  the  full  measure  of  his  disgrace 

236 


BARBARISM  237 

i 

hardly  seemed  to  come  home  to  him.  As  cook  he 
could  secure  for  himself  as  good  food  as  was  served 
in  the  cabin;  his  berth  was  us  comfortable,  and 
his  duties  were  easier.  After  a  few  days  of 
moroseness  and  surliness,  he  settled  into  an  apa 
thetic,  porcine  indifference,  from  which  he  aroused 
himself  only  to  growl  curses  on  Dick's  head  when 
he  passed  the  galley  door.  Dick  heard  them,  and 
asked  Breen's  permission  to  silence  them. 

"  No !  "  snapped  Breen  ;  "  you're  to  keep  out  of 
trouble.  Great  heavens ! "  he  exclaimed  passion 
ately,  "  what  have  I  done  to  be  compelled  to 
suffer  like  this? "  He  had  been  all  day  at  a  wash- 
tub,  and  his  knuckles  were  sore. 

" But," answered  Dick,  gently,  "  why  need  you? 
It  is  much  easier  for  me  to  bear  it  than  for  you. 
There  are  only  two  aft  now  —  for  Sawyer  doesn't 
count,  provided  we  succeed  —  and  one  is  crippled. 
"Why  not  —  you  and  I  —  sneak  aft  in  my  watch 
some  night,  floor  the  mate,  gag  him,  go  down 
and  fix  the  skipper,  and  get  his  pistols  and  gun. 
Then  we'll  have  charge." 

"  Yes,  we  might.  I've  talked  bravely  enough 
about  it,  and  yet  —  call  it  cowardice  if  you  like; 
but  I  don't  say  that  I  wouldn't  on  impulse  —  you 
see,  some  one  would  be  killed,  surely.  Some  of  the 
men,  perhaps,  who  wouldn't  understand.  I  know 
that  I  should  be  exonerated,  and  yet  I  hesitate 
at  bloodshed.  If  it  were  in  time  of  war  I  should 


238  MASTERS   OP   MEN 

drive  ahead.  "War  excuses  killing,  even  to  a  man's 
own  conscience.  I  had  really  hoped,  that  in  case 
of  a  vacancy  in  the  galley  —  which  I  confess 
now  I  didn't  wish  for  —  I  should  be  made  cabin 
flunkey,  or  something  of  that  sort,  while  the 
steward  cooked  for  all  hands.  Now  I  am  stalled 
again." 

"  I've  a  good  mind,"  said  Dick,  slowly  and 
thoughtfully,  "to  take  this  upon  myself.  There 
is  a  difference  of  training,  perhaps  temperament, 
between  us,  and  I  have  none  of  your  scruples.  I 
can  overcome  them  both  in  three  minutes  —  one 
after  the  other.  Then  I  can  arm  myself  in  two 
minutes,  at  least.  Five  minutes  work  will  do  it." 

"  And  hang  you." 

"  But  why  ? "  asked  Dick,  vehemently.  "  I  am 
the  government's  hired  man.  My  government 
has  trained  me  to  fight.  I  am  taken  forcibly  from 
my  job,  and  I  fight  as  I  have  been  taught,  to  get 
back  to  my  work.  Why  should  my  government 
hang  me  ? " 

"Because  certain  legal  gentlemen  would  con 
ceive  it  their  duty  to  arrange  it,"  answered  Breen, 
wearily.  "We  need  not  argue  this  question.  If 
you  fall  back  upon  your  relation  to  your  govern 
ment,  I  fall  back  upon  mine.  As  your  officer,  I 
forbid  you  to  assault  any  one  aboard  this  ship 
until  I  take  the  initiative  and  so  direct  you.  I 
also  order  you  to  report  to  me  twenty-four  hours 


BARBARISM  239 

hence  any  plan  you  may  be  able  to  think  of 
which  will  give  me  possession  of  arms  without 
previous  friction.  I  will  think  also.  My  duties 
now  are  light  and  conducive  to  thought.  I  am 
the  skipper's  laundryman.  I  have  washed  his 
shirts  to-day ;  to-morrow  I  expect  to  have  his 
socks." 

Dick  pondered  through  the  middle  watch  on  the 
ensign's  new  attitude,  but  not  until  he  had  rolled 
into  his  bunk  at  four  in  the  morning  had  he  brought 
the  problem  to  a  satisfactory  solution. 

"Breen's  a  gentleman,  to  begin  with,"  he  mused. 
"As  a  gentleman,  he  regards  fighting,  knock 
downs,  and  such  things  as  ungentlemanly  unless 
in  behalf  of  others,  or  for  a  principle  removed 
from  his  own  private  interests.  I  wish  Pig  had 
stayed  home,  so  that  I  could  have  settled  things 
before  getting  these  notions.  And  yet,  Breen 
isn't  always  this  way.  He  feels  like  murder, 
sometimes.  Well  —  not  so  often  as  I  do ;  he's  on 
that  side  of  the  fence  —  and  I'm  on  the  other. 
He's  a  gentleman,  and  I'm  not.  I  wonder  if  I 
can  be  —  for  her  —  I  wonder  if  I  can  forgive 

Pig-" 

Then  he  went  to  sleep,  to  waken  at  seven  bells 
at  peace  with  himself  and  with  Pig  —  serenely 
confident  in  his  sleep-born  loftiness  of  purpose. 
As  was  customary  with  him,  fresh  from  the  navy, 
he  was  first  on  his  feet ;  and  he  started  toward  the 


240  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

galley  to  get  the  breakfast  with  more  of  good 
humour  in  his  face  than  had  shown  there  lately ; 
but,  in  half  a  minute  from  the  time  that  he  stepped 
through  the  forecastle  door,  his  new-found  phi 
losophy  was  shocked  out  of  him.  First  he  heard 
his  name  called,  and  observed  Breen,  his  hands 
full  of  brass-rags,  running  down  the  poop  steps. 
The  watch  was  scattered  about,  some  swabbing 
paintwork,  others,  like  Breen,  scouring  brass. 
Each  face  was  turned  forward,  each  pair  of  eyes 
focussed  on  a  point  abaft  the  forward  house.  Dick 
hastened  around  the  corner  just  as  Breen  called 
again. 

"  Take  a  hand  in  that,  Halpin." 

Forward  of  the  main  hatch,  flat  on  his  back 
and  black  in  the  face,  was  Sawyer.  His  eyes 
were  bulging,  his  tongue  protruding,  the  lower 
part  of  his  body  wriggling  feebly.  Kneeling  on 
his  chest  was  the  cause  of  it  all  —  Fig  Jones. 
His  left  fingers  gripped  Sawyer's  throat,  and  his 
right,  doubled  into  a  fist  the  size  of  a  sledge 
hammer,  was  doing  the  work  of  a  hammer  on 
Sawyer's  face. 

"  Think,  do  ye,"  said  Pig  between  blows,  "  yer 
goin'  to  run  me  'cause  ye've  got  my  berth.  I'll 
learn  ye." 

It  was  no  time  to  consider  ethics  or  philosophy, 
even  though  Dick  had  not  received  orders  from 
Breen.  Sawyer,  a  good  friend,  was  being  mur- 


BAKBAKISM  241 

dered  by  a  giant  ignorant  of  his  strength,  inno 
cent  of  murderous  intent,  perhaps  —  bent  only 
upon  "  learning  "  his  victim.  Dick's  boot,  impact 
ing  on  Pig's  jaw,  stopped  the  tutelage.  It  was  a 
kick  that  would  have  broken  an  ordinary  jaw, 
but  Pig's  was  not  an  ordinary  jaw,  and  it  held 
together;  yet  he  was  driven  off  from  Sawyer's 
chest  by  the  force  of  the  kick,  and  he  scrambled 
to  his  feet  six  feet  away. 

"  Defend  yourself,  Halpin,"  called  Breen,  and 
Dick,  watching  Pig  closely,  observed,  out  of  the 
corner  of  his  eye,  Sawyer  rising  weakly  to  his  feet, 
with  Breen  and  others  around  him. 

"  You  —  you  —  you  —  kick  me,"  spluttered  Pig. 
"  You  —  Halpin,  hey  ?  I  knew  ye." 

"  Eight,"  said  Dick,  calmly  ;  "  Redhead  Halpin. 
You  got  only  one  back,  Pig  Jones.  There  are 
more  kicks  coming  to  you."  Then  he  dodged  the 
bull-like  rush  of  the  giant  and  struck  him  lightly 
in  the  ribs  as  he  passed. 

There  is  no  need  to  describe  in  technical  detail 
the  fight  that  followed  —  the  fiercest  battle  with 
fists  that  Dick  had  ever  engaged  in.  It  raged  and 
whirled  from  the  main  hatch  to  the  break  of  the 
poop,  forward  again,  then  aft.  Pig  bellowed  and 
threatened  insanely,  expending  his  strength  in 
futile  blows  and  rushes.  Dick  was  merely  himself 
again  —  not  the  self  which  had  formulated  plans 
of  inward  discipline  and  forgiven  Pig,  but  the  self 


242  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

which  remembered  the  persecutions  of  Pig  as  man 
and  boy.  He  was  a  paleolithic  reversion  plus  the 
education  of  the  modern  seaman  apprentice.  Fired 
by  an  ecstasy  of  pride  and  courage,  he  would  not 
now  have  exchanged  his  characteristics  for  those 
of  Breen  —  not  even  for  the  power  to  win  the  girl 
that  he  loved.  He  fought  with  his  hands,  and  he 
fought  to  win,  but  in  his  greatest  intensity  of  feel 
ing,  he  saw  no  red. 

He  noticed,  as  he  struck  and  feinted,  dodged  and 
whirled,  that  men  followed  them,  but  avoided  con 
tact,  even  though  some  held  handspikes  poised 
aloft.  Once  he  heard  a  clarion  voice  over  their 
exclamations : — 

"Let  them  alone,  Mr.  Thorpe.  Stand  back 
there,  Mr.  Sawyer.  He's  doing  well.  Let  'em 
have  it  out." 

And  he  fought  on,  caring  little  for  the  sym 
pathy  in  the  voice  or  for  the  poised  handspikes, 
until,  breathing  hard,  and  dizzy  with  the  shock  of 
interruption,  he  found  himself  held  tightly  by 
Sawyer  and  the  captain,  and  looking  down  at  his 
quivering,  unconscious  antagonist. 

"That'll  do,  young  man,"  said  the  captain. 
"  You've  licked  him  fair.  Don't  spoil  it." 

"Come  forrard,  Billson,"  said  Sawyer.  "Get 
yer  breakfast."  The  captain  released  his  arm, 
and  Sawyer  led  him  away. 

"Ye  came  just  in  time  to  save  my  wind,  Bill- 


BARBARISM  243 

son,"  he  said,  "and  I'll  not  forget  it.  I  didn't 
think  you  could  do  him,  and  I  was  ready  with 
a  club.  Glad  now,  on  your  account,  I  didn't 
use  it,  but  sorry  on  mine.  Why,  the  brute  struck 
me  from  behind  just  'cause  I'd  objected,  five 
minutes  before,  to  his  spattering  slops  on  the 
deck." 

"  My  name's  Halpin,  Mr.  Sawyer,"  panted  Dick. 
"That  fellow's  an  old  school-time  enemy,  and  I 
suppressed  my  name  and  identity  only  to  avoid 
this.  Now  that  it's  over,  it  doesn't  matter  —  and 
say,  the  skipper  seemed  to  be  on  my  side.  Can't 
we  convince  him  about  Mr.  Breen  ? " 

"Not  on  your  life,"  said  Sawyer,  warningly. 
"Don't  think  of  it.  Too  much  has  happened. 
And  I'll  tell  you  somethin'.  The  skipper's  sus- 
pectin'.  I  heard  him  an'  the  mate  only  yesterday 
talkin'  about  your  friend  Breen.  You  see  he  can't, 
in  the  nature  o'  things,  keep  himself  back  alto 
gether.  The  sailor  sticks  out  of  him,  an'  the  skip 
per's  catchin'  on.  Now,  that's  bad  for  him  in  this 
kind  of  a  ship.  An'  only  this  mornin'  the  old  man 
asked  me  what  I  thought  about  him  —  whether  I 
thought  he  was  anythin'  more  than  what  he  made 
out,  and  I  said  that  as  far  as  I  could  see  he  was 
the  most  useless,  good-for-nothin'  soger  that  ever 
signed  able  seaman.  But  it  didn't  go  —  I  could 
see  that.  Give  him  a  pointer  to  watch  out.  So 
long,  now.  I've  talked  enough  wi'  you." 


CHAPTEE  XXXIX 

BEFORE  Dick  reached  the  forecastle,  whither 
his  watch  had  preceded  him,  he  heard  loud 
and  violent  language  from  the  captain,  and  turned 
to  look  aft.  Pig  was  sitting  up  on  the  hatch, 
but  was  receiving  no  attention  from  any  one.  It 
was  Breen  who  was  being  rebuked.  He  had 
climbed  the  poop  steps  and  had  begun  to  rub  the 
brass  plate  on  the  monkey-rail,  and  over  him 
stood  Captain  Bilker,  wiping  his  hands  and  coat 
sleeve  with  a  handkerchief.  As  Breen  seemed  in 
no  present  danger  of  assault,  and  as  there  was 
not  much  time  left  for  breakfast,  Dick  entered  the 
forecastle,  concluding  that  Breen,  in  his  hurry  to 
relieve  Sawyer's  predicament,  had  left  the  brass 
smeared  with  oil  and  bath  brick,  and  that  Captain 
Bilker  had  rubbed  against  it.  This  proved  to  be 
the  case.  When  Dick  came  out  at  eight  bells, 
Breen  was  stowing  his  box  of  oils  and  rags  in 
its  place  under  the  topgallant  forecastle,  and  Mr. 
Thorpe,  who  had  come  forward  to  set  the  men  at 
work  for  the  watch,  was  further  berating  him. 

"  You  get  yotar  breakfast,  and  at  one  bell  you 
turn  to  —  d'ye  hear?  And  next  time  you  leave 
.any  oil  around  loose,  you'll  lick  it  up." 

244 


BARBABISM  245 

Then  he  detailed  the  port  watch  to  various  tasks 
about  the  rigging,  Dick's  being  the  squaring  of 
ratlines  on  the  weather  mizzen  shrouds. 

"  And  take  a  piece  o'  twine  with  you,"  said  the 
officer,  "  and  go  up  first  thing  and  overhaul  and 
stop  the  royal  and  to'gallant  buntlines." 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  and  headed  for 
the  "  bosun's-locker." 

There  being  no  boys  or  ordinary  seamen  in  the 
crew,  this  lofty  work  was  given  to  Dick  and  other 
young  and  active  men,  while  scouring  brass,  swab 
bing,  scrubbing,  sweeping,  and  all  unseamanly  work 
usually  done  by  boys  was  given  to  Breen  and  others 
as  useless  as  he  pretended  to  be.  Musing  on  the 
injustice  of  keeping  Breen  up  in  the  forenoon 
watch  for  an  act  which  indirectly  saved  the  life 
of  an  officer,  Dick  secured  the  twine,  with  the 
marline-spike  and  marline  for  the  ratlines,  and  went 
aft.  On  the  way,  he  met  Pig  stumbling  slowly 
forward  to  his  galley.  His  eyes  were  closed  and 
blackened ;  his  face  was  marked  and  bruised.  He 
was  a  ludicrous  and  pathetic  picture  of  misery, 
and  Dick  was  sorry  for  him.  Mr.  Thorpe  was  out 
of  sight,  and  the  captain  had  gone  below.  He 
stopped  before  him. 

"  Pig,"  he  said,  "  I  didn't  mean  to  do  so  much. 
I'd  made  my  mind  up  to  drop  all  grudge  and  call 
the  whole  thing  square,  but  you  forced  me  to  it. 
Will  you  shake  hands  and  start  fresh?"  Dick 


246  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

extended  his  hand  ;  but  Pig,  lifting  his  chin  to  see 
easier  through  his  swollen  eyelids,  tersely  con 
signed  him  to  the  lower  regions,  and  passed  on. 

"  All  right,"  said  Dick,  and  added  to  himself 
as  he  went  aft,  "Well,  I  feel  better  for  having 
offered." 

On  the  mizzen  royal  yard  he  saw  a  sail  on  the 
southwestern  horizon,  squarely  on  the  starboard 
beam ;  for  the  southeast  trade  having  failed,  the 
ship  was  now  headed  away  for  the  Cape  with  a 
mild  quartering  wind.  Looking  down,  he  beheld 
the  captain  pacing  the  poop  and  hailed :  "  Sail, 
oh !  Broad  on  the  starboard  beam.  Seems  to  be 
steering  parallel  with  us,  sir." 

"All  right — all  right,"  answered  the  captain, 
reaching  for  his  binoculars ;  then  he  looked  aloft 
and  called  out :  "  Why  in  thunder  don't  ye  put  it 
to  music  and  sing  it?  Don't  have  so  much  to  say 
up  there." 

Dick  was  long  past  being  hurt  by  such  criti 
cism.  He  finished  stopping  the  buntlines  and 
came  down,  noticing,  as  he  passed  the  topmast- 
head,  that  the  seizing  of  the  monkey,  or  signal- 
gaff,  lift  was  chafed  through,  and  that  only  a 
couple  of  turns  held  the  weight  of  the  gaff. 
Obviously  this  was  a  matter  to  be  reported  at 
once;  but  not  caring  to  hail  the  deck  again,  he 
descended  to  the  eyes  of  the  lower  rigging,  where 
his  work  on  the  ratlines  would  begin,  and  called 


BARBARISM  247 

easily  to  Mr.  Thorpe,  who  was  ascending  the 
poop  steps :  — 

"  Seizing  of  the  monkey-gaff  lift  is  all  gone, 
sir,"  he  said.  "  Shall  I  go  up  and  fix  it  ? " 

But  Captain  Bilker,  not  seeing  the  mate,  and 
supposing  that  Dick  was  again  addressing  him, 
turned  fiercely  around  and  yelled  angrily  :  — 

"  Don't  you  be  so  d — d  busy  up  there  wi'  your 
comments  and  your  suggestions  to  me.  I  know 
my  business  without  your  help.  You  'tend  to 
your'n." 

"  Go  on  wi'  those  ratlines,"  commanded  the 
mate,  consistently  deferring  to  the  captain's  mood, 
"  and  shut  up." 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  respectfully ; 
then  he  went  to  work. 

No  man  can  with  surety  trace  to  a  prompting 
emotion  the  moods  and  whims  of  an  autocrat ;  but 
Dick,  watching  the  surly-faced  skipper  stamp 
ing  back  and  forth  between  the  binnacle  and 
the  rail,  occasionally  snarling  at  the  man  at  the 
wheel,  occasionally  peering  through  the  binocu 
lars,  shrewdly  guessed  that  the  disturbance  of  bile 
came  of  his  being  compelled  to  wash  his  hands 
twice  that  morning  and  to  give  his  coat  to  the 
steward  for  cleaning.  In  this  guess  he  was  con 
firmed  when,  at  one  bell,  Breen  appeared  on  deck. 

"  Mr.  Thorpe,"  yelled  the  captain  as  he  spied 
him,  "set  that  infernal  insect  to  work  on  this 


248  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

brass  work  an'  get  it  done.  Them  stanchions 
there.  Mebbe  he'll  know  how  to  scour  brass  work 
properly  'fore  I'm.  through  with  him." 

The  brass  work  indicated  was  a  set  of  stanchions, 
or  braces,  at  the  ends  of  the  poop  and  house  rails, 
which  so  far  in  the  voyage  had  not  been  cleaned, 
and  had  taken  on  a  rusty  green  and  blue  colour. 
Breen  secured  his  box  of  rags  and  went  to  work. 

"  You  gentleman's  gentleman,"  sneered  the  irate 
captain  as  he  hovered  over  him.  "You  navy 
officer,  you,  I'll  1'arn  you  somethin' ! " 

Breen  answered  not,  but  scoured  industriously  ; 
and  Dick,  above  them  in  the  rigging,  speculated 
on  the  chances  if  he  should  let  fly  his  marline-spike 
at  Captain  Bilker's  head. 

So  the  forenoon  watch  passed,  the  sail  to  star 
board  drawing  closer,  and  the  captain  becoming 
more  and  more  irritable,  until,  at  about  five  bells, 
the  other  ship  ran  up  an  ensign.  The  captain 
studied  it  through  the  glasses. 

"Nothin'  but  a  d — d  Nova  Scotia  rat  trap," 
he  remarked ;  "  an'  I  thought  it  was  an  American 
ship." 

It  was  the  first  ship  that  had  come  within  sig 
nal  distance  since  they  had  sailed,  and  in  spite  of 
his  disappointment  Captain  Bilker  was  naturally 
anxious  to  communicate.  He  looked  around  the 
deck.  The  whole  watch  was  aloft  with  the  excep 
tion  of  Breen. 


BARBARISM  249 

"Here,  you,"  he  called,  "you  gentleman's  man. 
Can  you  read  letters  stencilled  on  little  flags  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Breen,  standing  erect  with 
the  peculiar  set  look  which  had  come  to  his  face 
lately. 

"  Put  that  gear  away,  an'  clean  yer  hands  an' 
come  aft  here  an'  help  me  signalize  that  Blue- 
noser.  Bear  a  hand,  now." 

In  five  minutes  Breen  was  with  him. 

"Run  up  this  ensign  on  them  signal  halyards 
there,"  commanded  the  captain,  tossing  the  stars 
and  stripes  to  the  top  of  the  cabin,  where  he  had 
already  piled  the  nineteen  small  flags  of  the 
International  Signal  Code.  Then  he  followed  with 
his  signal  books  and  glasses,  taking  a  position  for 
ward  of  the  mizzenmast.  Breen  hoisted  the  en 
sign  to  the  monkey  gaff,  which,  as  the  flag  was 
small  and  the  wind  light,  held  up  under  the 
strain. 

"  Code  pennant,"  muttered  the  captain,  as  the 
stranger's  ensign  came  down  and  a  small  triangular 
flag  went  up.  "  Answer  that,"  he  said  to  Breen, 
kicking  a  small  flag  toward  him.  "  Send  it  up  on 
t'other  part  o'  the  halyards.  "  Breen  obliged  him. 

"  Now  get  our  number  hooked  together,"  said 
the  captain,  naming  four  letters.  "  They're 
stamped  on  the  canvas  edge.  See  them?  J 
on  top,  then  the  rest." 

He  opened  the  code  book  to  interpret  the  four 


250  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

flags  now  flying  from  the  stranger's  gaff,  and 
Breen  made  up  the  ship's  number. 

"  Annie  M.  Sheldon,  o'  Halifax,"  muttered  the 
skipper.  Then  he  verified  Breen's  arrangement 
of  the  flags  before  ordering  them  hoisted. 

"You  do  seem  to  know  somethin',  after  all," 
he  said  sharply. 

"  More  than  you  do,"  muttered  Dick  in  the  rig 
ging,  a  little  fearful  that  Breen,  unaware  of  the 
captain's  lately  aroused  suspicion,  would  show  too 
great  a  proficiency  at  signalling ;  but  he  could  not 
warn  him  now. 

The  number  went  aloft,  and  Captain  Bilker 
jotted  down  on  an  envelope  the  interpretation  of 
three  signals  which  followed  in  rapid  succession 
from  the  other. 

"  Six  days  out  o'  Montevideo  for  Cape  Town," 
he  read.  Then  he  directed  the  hoisting  of  three 
sets  of  flags  which  told  the  other  ship  that  they 
were  fifty-seven  days  out  of  New  York  bound  to 
Hong  Kong. 

"  Now  that's  over,"  said  Captain  Bilker,  "  we'll 
ask  for  news.  Run  up  B  —  W  — F." 

Breen  quickly  toggled  these  flags  together  and 
hoisted  them,  watched  closely  by  the  captain. 

Four  flags  answered  from  the  other,  and  Captain 
Bilker,  observing  through  the  glasses,  called  out : 
"  C  —  K  —  Y  —  K.  What  the  deuce  is  he  drivin' 
at?" 


BARBARISM  251 

He  studied  his  book.  "  Battle,"  he  announced. 
"  Must  be  spellin'  somethin'  out.  Run  up  the 
answerin'  pennant." 

Breen  picked  it  up  readily.  It  was  the  same 
small  flag  which  he  had  hoisted  first,  and  had  two 
uses,  one  to  indicate  the  code  used,  the  other  to 
signify  that  a  signal  is  understood. 

"  How  d'you  know  that  was  the  answerin'  pen 
nant  ? "  yelled  the  captain  in  his  ear.  "  Hey  ? 
Tell  me.  How  d'you  know  so  much  'bout  these 
flags  ? " 

"  You  told  me  to  hoist  it,  sir,"  answered  Breen, 
flushing  slightly,  yet  ready  with  an  explanation. 
"I  was  valet  to  a  yacht  owner  once,  sir,  and  I've 
seen  these  flags  before." 

The  captain  glared  at  him  a  moment,  then  said 
with  a  sniff :  "  I  b'lieve  yer  a-lyin'.  Don't  you  try 
an'  fool  me.  Up  wi'  that  pennant.  What  the 
h — 1  are  ye  gapin'  at  ? " 

Three  other  flags  were  now  flying  from  the  Nova 
Scotiaman,  and  the  captain  read:  C  —  L  —  J. 
Then  he  turned  to  his  book. 

"  Ship,"  he  said.  "  "What  on  earth  does  he 
mean  ?  Answer." 

Breen,  who  had  lowered  the  pennant,  again  ran 
it  up.  He  had  not  unhooked  it  from  the  halyards, 
and  the  captain  noticed  it. 

"  He's  a  gentleman's  man,  and  a  yacht-owner's 
valet,"  muttered  the  captain,  as  he  studied  another 


252  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

signal  from  the  stranger.  "  I  wonder  if  he  knows 
what  B  —  Q  —  K  —  J  means  ? "  Glancing  suspi 
ciously  at  Breen's  fixed  face,  he  consulted  the 
book. 

"  Geographical  signal,"  he  said,  turning  the 
leaves.  "  Maine  —  battleship  Maine  —  that's  what 
he's  saying.  What  next  ? " 

He  read  another  signal,  then  another,  and  an 
other,  each  following  in  rapid  succession,  jotting 
down  the  interpretations  as  he  read  them  in  the 
book.  Then  he  read  aloud  :  "  Battleship  Maine 
—  destroyed  —  Havana  —  February  15.  Since  we 
sailed ! "  he  added  excitedly.  "  Answer  that,  and 
stand  by." 

He  turned  the  leaves,  studied  a  page,  and  said, 
"KunupC  —  G  —  M." 

"  C  —  G  —  M,  sir  ? "  answered  Breen,  fumbling 
the  flags  as  excitedly  as  Captain  Bilker  fumbled  the 
leaves  of  the  book.  "  Did  you  say,  C  —  G  —  M, 
sir,  orC  —  G  —  N3" 

"  What'd  I  tell  you,"  yelled  the  captain,  reopen 
ing  the  book.  "  Keep  yer  ears  open.  C  —  G  —  N. 
That  asks  if  there's  any  chance  o'  war.  Now  up 
wi'  it,  now  that  ye  know  all  'bout  it." 

Breen,  with  sparkling  eyes,  changed  the  signal, 
and  Dick  overhead  mingled  wonder  as  to  the  fate 
of  his  old  ship  and  shipmates  with  appreciation 
of  Breen's  ability  to  take  care  of  himself. 

But  the   signal  did  not  leave  the   deck.     The 


BARBARISM  253 

excited  skipper,  to  hurry  matters,  had  bent  the 
end  of  the  halyards  to  the  loop  of  the  upper  flag 
while  Breen  changed  the  lower.  He  made  a  slip 
pery  hitch,  and  as  Breen  hauled  on  the  other  part 
the  flags  dropped  and  the  end  went  aloft. 

"  Ketch  it ! "  shouted  the  captain  to  Dick. 
"Ketch  that  end  'fore  it  unreeves." 

It  was  out  of  Dick's  reach,  but  he  danced  up  the 
rigging  after  it.  To  no  avail,  however ;  the  higher 
it  went,  the  lighter  it  got,  and  the  halyards  whizzed 
through  the  sheave  on  the  gaff  and  settled  in  a 
tangle  on  the  house  and  deck.  Captain  Bilker's 
rage  was  akin  to  insanity. 

"  Get  up  there,"  he  screamed  to  Breen.  "  Take 
that  end  aloft  an'  reeve  it  off,  you  infernal  monkey. 
Don't  wait  to  say  yer  prayers.  Up  wi'  you  ! " 

Breen  answered  quietly,  took  the  end  and 
mounted  the  weather  rigging,  meeting  Dick,  who 
had  come  down  to  his  work. 

"Don't  get  on  that  gaff  till  you  seize  off  the 
lift,"  said  Dick,  softly.  "  It's  chafed  through,  and 
he  knows  it.  And  he's  suspicious  of  you.  Just 
learned  it.  Here's  a  piece  of  marline." 

"  You  say  he  knows  it  ?  " 

"  Reported  it  myself  this  morning." 

"  All  right." 

Breen  took  the  length  of  marline  and  went  aloft, 
while  Captain  Bilker  improved  the  delay  by  walk 
ing  back  and  forth  and  glaring  unspeakable  things 


254  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

at  Dick.  He  could  not  but  have  understood  the 
meaning  of  the  short  talk  and  the  transfer  of 
marline,  yet  when  Breen,  having  reached  the 
monkey  gaff  at  the  topmast  crosstrees,  instead  of 
climbing  out  on  the  smooth  pole,  made  fast  the 
end  of  halyards  and  climbed  to  the  lift  above  at 
the  cap,  he  broke  forth  into  a  tirade  of  profanity. 

"  Get  out  an'  reeve  off  them  halyards,"  lie  roared 
between  oaths.  "  D'ye  hear,  up  there,  you  white- 
livered  whelp  ?  What's  the  matter  wi'  ye  ? " 

To  which  Breen,  busy  at  the  seizing,  made  no 
response.  He  finished,  descended  to  the  gaff, 
climbed  out  and  rove  the  halyards,  and  overhauled 
the  end  to  the  deck.  Captain  Bilker  caught  it,  and, 
hitching  it  to  the  flags,  hoisted  the  signal,  while 
Breen  descended.  His  face  was  very  pale  as  he 
passed  Dick  in  the  rigging,  and  he  said :  — 

"  That  lift  wouldn't  have  held  the  weight  of 
a  poodle  dog.  He  was  willing  I  should  fall." 

As  Breen  reached  the  deck  the  captain  was 
jotting  down  a  reading  of  a  new  signal,  obviously 
too  engrossed  now  to  punish  Breen.  "  Up  wi'  the 
answerin'  pennant,"  he  said,  and  watched  the  sig 
nals  through  the  glasses.  Then  he  seized  the  book 
and  turned  the  leaves. 

"  America,"  he  muttered.  "  War  expected  be 
tween  America  and  —  what  next  ?  " 

Again  he  peered  through  the  glasses. 

"  Up  wi'  that  pennant  again,"  he  said,  over  his 


BARBARISM  255 

shoulder,  and  Breen,  who  had  abstracted  an  iron 
belaying-pin  from  the  fife-rail,  tucked  it  into  his 
belt  and  obeyed.  The  captain  consulted  the  book. 

"D  —  F—  W,"  he  muttered.  "What  is  it? 
Spanish !  War  expected  between  America  and 
Spain,"  he  declared  solemnly  as  he  looked  up. 
"  Mr.  Thorpe,"  he  called  to  the  mate,  now  on  the 
forecastle  deck,  "  come  !  —  " 

"  Yes,  you  murdering  devil,"  interrupted  Breen, 
with  the  belaying-pin  over  his  shoulder.  His  face 
was  still  white,  but  his  words  came  forth  with  a 
business-like  distinctness  quite  at  variance  with  the 
gentle  speech  of  the  gentleman's  man.  u  And  in 
the  name  of  the  United  States  government  I  take 
charge  of  this  ship.  Do  you  surrender,  quietly, 
and  instantly,  or  shall  I  kill  you  where  you  stand  \ " 

"  Wha —  what  ?  What  you  say  ? "  stammered 
the  captain,  backing  away. 

"  I  am  a  government  officer,"  said  Breen,  fol 
lowing,  his  iron  club  high  over  his  head.  "  Do 
you  give  me  charge  of  this  ship?" 

"  No,  by  heaven !     I'll  see  you  and  the  gov  —  " 

The  heavy  iron  belaying-pin  came  down,  and 
the  captain  fell  like  a  sack  of  meal. 

"  Down  from  aloft,  Halpin,"  called  Breen,  but 
Dick  was  already  stepping  out  of  the  rigging. 
"The  game  is  up.  Did  you  hear?  The  coun 
try's  expecting  war.  Don't  let  the  mate  into  the 
cabin.  Kill  him  if  necessary." 


MASTERS    OP   MEN 

"Very  good,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  securing 
another  iron  club  similar  to  Breen's.  The  ensign 
descended  the  after  companion,  while  Dick 
vaulted  over  the  monkey-rail  and  sprang  off  the 
poop  into  the  path  of  Mr.  Thorpe,  hurrying  aft 
in  response  to  the  captain's  call. 

How  easy  it  was  —  after  the  first  blow  was 
struck.  Dick  faced  the  terrible  first  mate  with  a 
smile  on  his  face  and  joy  in  his  heart. 

"  Stop  where  you  are,"  he  said  calmly.  "  Ensign 
Breen,  of  the  United  States  navy,  has  confiscated 
this  ship  and  orders  me  to  kill  you  if  you  make 
trouble.  Understand  ? " 

"  Going  to  kill  me,  are  you  ?  Why  ?  What 
have  I  done  that  I'm  to  be  killed?  "  Mr.  Thorpe 
backed  away,  and  Dick  followed.  There  was  no 
fear  in  the  face  or  the  voice  of  the  mate,  even 
though  he  had  seen  the  young  man  before  him 
thrash  the  big  Pig  Jones  that  morning.  But  with 
his  arm  in  a  sling  he  was  not  at  present  fighting 
with  fists,  or  against  them  ;  neither  was  he  oppos 
ing  iron  belaying-pins.  He  was  simply  the  signed 
first  officer  of  this  ship,  whose  life  was  threat 
ened,  and  he  took  the  right  and  proper  course 
of  action.  With  a  sudden  sidespring  he  drew  a 
revolver  and  fired  left-handed  at  Dick ;  but  he 
missed,  and  proved  that  his  excellent  marksman 
ship  with  the  marline-spike  was  merely  acci 
dental.  Dick  rushed  toward  him,  and  the  officer 


BARBARISM  257 

fired  again  as  he  retreated.  Dick  followed  on, 
in  a  frenzy  borne  of  his  danger,  risking  death 
because  he  loved  life,  seeking  only  to  get  at  this 
man  who  was  trying  to  kill  him.  Around  the 
booby  hatch  they  manoeuvred  —  around  the  cap 
stan,  back  to  the  poop  steps,  and  forward  again 
until,  at  the  main  fife-rail,  as  the  mate  paused  to 
fire  his  fifth  shot,  a  report  rang  out  from  the  poop, 
and  he  whirled  around  in  his  tracks  with  arms 
extended,  reeled,  fell,  and  lay  quiet  on  the  deck. 
Dick  turned,  and  saw  the  ensign  lowering  a 
smoking  rifle  from  his  shoulder. 

"Down  from  aloft,  everybody,"  sang  out  Breen. 
"  Halpin,  come  here ! "  Dick  approached  and 
received  a  revolver  handed  down  to  him.  "  Call 
the  second  mate  —  call  the  watch,  forward  there ! " 
he  added  in  a  voice  which  the  men  scrambling 
down  from  the  rigging  had  not  heard  before. 

Sawyer  appeared ;  the  firing  had  awakened 
him.  He  rubbed  his  eyes  as  he  looked  at  the 
quiet  form  on  the  deck  amidships ;  then  he  looked 
at  Dick,  carelessly  holding  his  pistol  muzzle  down, 
and  at  Breen  above  on  the  house. 

"  Sawyer,"  said  Breen,  "  the  United  States 
expects  war  with  Spain,  and  I've  taken  charge  of 
this  ship  as  a  naval  officer.  I  think  I've  killed 
the  mate  and  I  think  I've  killed  the  skipper. 
Shall  I  kill  you,  too,  or  will  you  take  orders  from 
me?" 

8 


258  MASTERS    OF   MEN 

"  Don't  kill  me,  sir,"  answered  Sawyer,  with  a 
deprecatory  gesture,  while  the  slightest  trace  of  a 
smile  came  to  his  face.  "  I  submit  to  a  show  of 
force.  I'll  take  orders  from  anybody  with  a  gun. 
Just  tell  me  what  I'm  to  do,  sir." 

"  Get  all  hands  aft  here  at  once." 

"  Yery  good,  sir." 

The  speech  which  Breen  made  to  the  men  when 
they  appeared  before  him  was  short,  sharp,  and 
expressive.  In  it  he  stated  his  position  with  re 
gard  to  the  government  and  the  law.  He  granted 
permission  for  any  and  all  of  them  to  disbelieve 
him  before  his  future  handling  of  the  ship  and 
themselves  convinced  them  of  the  truth  of  his 
words,  but  promised  instant  death  to  the  first 
man  who  should  act  on  his  disbelief.  To  which 
the  men,  with  wonder  and  shock  in  their  faces, 
made  no  response.  They  shuffled  their  feet 
uneasily,  looking  at  each  other,  at  the  complaisant 
second  mate,  at  the  stern-faced  Dick,  and  at  the 
sterner-faced  young  man  on  the  house  who  had 
won  their  regard  by  his  gentleness,  politeness,  and 
deference  to  their  superiority.  Eight  bells  at  the 
wheel  struck  while  Breen  waited  for  their  answer, 
and  with  an  impatient  gesture  he  said,  "Mr. 
Sawyer,  send  two  men  up  here  to  lift  the  captain 
down  to  the  mizzen  hatch." 

"  Yery  good,  sir,"  answered  Sawyer,  with  a 
man-of-war's-man's  salute.  "  Wagner  —  Swanson, 


BARBARISM  259 

bear  a  hand  here.  Up  on  the  house  wi'  you  and 
bring  the  skipper  down." 

The  two  men  hesitated,  looking  at  each  other 
and  around  at  their  shipmates ;  then  they  looked 
up  at  Breen,  slowly  bringing  his  rifle  to  his 
shoulder,  and  started  for  the  steps.  Their  exam 
ple  seemed  to  decide  the  rest;  when  Sawyer 
ordered  two  others  to  carry  the  mate  to  the  hatch, 
they  obeyed  readily. 

The  captain  was  carried  down  and  laid  beside 
the  mate ;  then  Breen  called  out :  "  Strike  eight 
bells.  Dinner,  the  watch,"  and  the  men  moved 
slowly  forward.  Breen  had  mastered  them. 


CHAPTEK   XL 

"l^TEITHER  the  captain  nor  the  mate  was 
-L  i  dead.  While  Breen,  Dick,  and  Sawyer 
examined  them  on  the  hatch,  the  mate  quivered 
convulsively,  rolled  over  on  his  side,  and  relapsed 
into  half-consciousness.  Breen's  bullet  had  glanced 
from  his  skull.  A  little  later,  Captain  Bilker  arose 
to  a  sitting  posture  and  stared  at  them  with  sleepy 
eyes  while  he  uttered  a  sound  that  was  half 
groan,  half  growl.  Breen  breathed  a  deep  sigh 
of  relief,  and  Dick,  with  his  pistol  at  the  captain's 
head,  could  yet  notice  that  the  ensign  was  deadly 
pale,  that  his  hand  trembled,  and  that  drops  of 
perspiration  collected  as  fast  as  he  brushed  them 
away. 

"I'm  glad  —  it's  better  —  I'm  glad,  now,"  he 
said  brokenly,  "that  I  didn't  kill  them.  They 
both  deserve  it,  of  course,  but  they  ought  to  do  it 
themselves.  Mr.  Sawyer,"  he  added,  "get  leg 
irons  out  and  shackle  them  together  by  the 
ankles,  left  to  right  —  right  to  left." 

Sawyer  disappeared  in  the  cabin,  and  Captain 
Bilker,  still  sitting  and  regarding  them  stupidly, 
still  covered  by  Dick's  pistol,  broke  forth  into 
aimless,  senseless  abuse.  He  could  not  quite 

260 


BARBARISM  261 

grasp  the  situation ;  but  when  Sawyer  had  locked 
his  right  ankle  to  the  mate's  left,  and  his  left  to 
the  mate's  right,  he  was  sufficiently  awakened  to 
ask  irrelevant  questions,  by  which  time  Breen  was 
sufficiently  composed  to  answer  and  Mr.  Thorpe 
conscious  enough  to  listen. 

"  What  you  doin',  anyhow  —  what  you  put  the 
darbies  on  us  for  ? "  he  asked  with  a  snarl. 

"  We  ironed  you,"  answered  Breen,  incisively, 
"to  keep  you  quiet  —  to  restrain  you  from  any 
futile  and  intemperate  action.  You  will  remain 
in  irons  until  released  by  the  order  of  the  nearest 
consul." 

"  We  will,  hey  ?  D'ye  know  this  is  mutiny  ? 
D'ye  know  I'm  captain  o'  this  ship?" 

"  I  know  that  you  were  captain ;  but  you  are 
deprived  of  command  by  a  representative  of  the 
United  States  government.  I  am  a  naval  officer, 
as  I  have  unavailingly  told  you  before,  and  my 
acts  will  be  upheld  by  any  official  you  may  appeal 
to.  Do  you  understand  that  you,  and  your  ship, 
and  your  owners,  and  your  combined  value  to 
the  commerce  of  America,  are  of  small  import 
ance  compared  with  the  country's  need  of  her 
officers  and  seamen  when  war  threatens  ?  I  waive 
all  consideration  of  your  attempt  on  my  life  this 
morning,  and  rest  my  case  on  the  fact  that  you 
were  restraining  me  from  my  duty — taking  me 
to  sea  when  I  am  needed  in  the  navy.  So,  as 


262  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

you  are  of  a  troublesome,  dissatisfied  disposition 
you  will  be  confined  in  irons  on  forecastle  rations 
until  we  quit  this  ship." 

"How'll  you  quit  —  in  the  middle  o'  the  South 
Atlantic?  Why  didn't  you  make  it  clear  —  why 
didn't  you  prove  yourself,  if  you  belong  to  the 
navy.  I  didn't  know." 

"  Yes,  you  did,  you  scoundrel,"  said  Breen, 
angrily.  "  You  came  to  that  knowledge  this 
morning,  when  I  failed  to  conceal  my  acquaint 
ance  with  signal  flags.  Instead  of  recognizing 
my  claim,  you  tried  to  murder  me.  You  sent  me 
aloft  to  a  job  which  would  have  killed  me  had 
I  not  been  warned." 

"  And  I'm  d —  sorry,"  spluttered  the  captain 
in  a  burst  of  rage,  "that  you  didn't  come  down 
by  the  run  and  break  yer  neck.  Take  these  irons 
off  my  legs,  and  I'll  land  you  at  the  nearest  port 
and  be  d — d  to  you." 

"  This  will  do,"  said  Breen,  coldly.  "  Stand  up, 
the  pair  of  you." 

The  mate  had  by  this  time  assumed  a  sitting 
posture,  but  was  hardly  in  condition  to  speak. 

"  Stand  up,"  repeated  Breen.  "  Catch  one 
another  by  the  shoulders  and  stand  up,  or  we'll 
lift  you  with  ropes  around  your  necks.  Quickly !  " 

Breen's  earnestness  was  more  than  evident. 
They  looked  at  his  stern  countenance,  forward  to 
the  observant  watch  on  deck  clustered  near  the 


BARBARISM  263 

galley  door,  and  into  each  other's  eyes.  Then 
they  gripped  each  other's  coat  sleeves  and  hove 
themselves  erect. 

"  March,"  commanded  Breen,  "  to  the  poop 
steps,  climb  them,  and  make  your  way  to  the 
lazarette  hatch." 

The  captain  backing,  and  the  wakening  mate 
following  unsteadily,  they  moved  in  this  reversed 
lock-step  to  the  poop  stairs,  which  they  mounted 
slowly  and  painfully.  Then  they  passed  along 
the  alley,  cursing  their  victors  furiously  as  they 
went,  and  stumbled  around  before  the  amazed 
helmsman  to  the  lazarette  hatch.  Sawyer  was 
ahead  of  them  and  lifted  the  cover.  Breen  and 
Dick  were  close  behind. 

"  Down  you  go,"  said  Breen.  "  Remember  that 
I  am  the  legitimate  commander  of  this  ship,  em 
powered  by  law  to  enforce  my  orders  with  powder 
and  shot." 

He  held  his  rifle  carelessly  in  line  with  their 
heads,  and  Dick  still  carried  the  revolver.  They 
seated  themselves  on  the  hatch  combing,  inserted 
their  legs,  and  floundered  down  to  the  flooring 
below. 

"  You  will  be  ironed  by  the  legs  to  a  stanchion," 
said  Breen,  looking  down ;  "  but  your  hands  will 
be  left  free,  and  you  will  receive  medical  atten 
tion  ;  you  will  be  closely  watched,  however,  and 
any  overt  act  of  resistance  or  insubordination  will 


264  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

result  in  your  death.  I  will  shoot  you  in  irons. 
Mr.  Sawyer,  make  them  fast  to  a  stanchion,  and 
tell  the  steward  to  nurse  their  hurts  and  feed 
them  the  forecastle  allowance." 

"  Yery  good,  sir."  And  Sawyer  went  forward 
with  a  joyous  grin  on  his  face,  while  Breen 
mounted  the  house  and  went  to  the  mizzen- 
mast. 

"  Come  up  here,  Halpin,"  he  said. 

He  was  examining  the  Nova  Scotiaman  through 
the  glasses  when  Dick  reached  his  side. 

"  "We'll  ask  a  few  more  questions,"  he  said. 
"  We  know  that  the  Maine  is  destroyed,  and  that 
war  is  expected  —  that  is  all."  Breen  consulted 
the  code-book.  "Lucky  I  remembered  what 
C  —  G  —  N  meant,"  he  added,  turning  the  leaves. 
"  It's  a  stock  question  in  all  navies.  The  skipper 
would  have  signalled  the  next  letters  above,  which 
merely  make  an  irrelevant  statement.  We  might 
not  have  got  this  news.  Run  up  C  —  B  —  T,  and 
ask  if  there  are  any  men-of-war  about." 

Dick  hoisted  this  signal,  and  the  other  ship 
responded  with  a  series  which  Breen  interpreted 
and  jotted  down  on  the  captain's  envelope. 
When  finished,  he  read  to  Dick  :  — 

"  Spanish  Temerario,  Montevideo  —  American 
Buffalo,  purchased,  Rio  Janeiro  —  American  Ore 
gon,  sailed,  San  Francisco,  March  19,  Cuba." 

"The  Oregon  sailed   March   19th,"  said  Breen 


BAKBARISM  265 

when  he  had  done  some  multiplying  on  the  en 
velope.  "  She  must  be  off  the  Horn,  now,  or  in 
the  Straits.  She'll  likely  coal  at  Punta  Arenas, 
possibly  at  Montevideo,  and  surely  at  Kio.  "We'll 
keep  away  from  Montevideo  for  the  present  — 
while  the  Temerario  is  around.  Our  place  is  Rio. 
With  fair  luck  we  can  make  Rio  in  time  to  join 
the  Oregon,  and  then  —  war.  Know  what  it 
means,  Halpin  ? " 

"  Are  you  sure,  sir,  that  we'll  have  it  ? " 

"We've  got  to.     I  won't  have  it  otherwise. 

"  We'll  ask  more  news,"  said  Breen  at  length, 
turning  the  leaves.  "  Hook  on  D  —  H  —  C  —  L. 
That  asks,  '  How  many  were  killed  ? '  Then  we'll 
give  the  Maine's  name." 

The  answer  to  these  signals  was  a  couple  of 
hoists  which  indicated  "  two  hundred  and  sixty." 

"  That'll  be  enough,"  said  Breen.  "  Two  hun 
dred  and  sixty  —  some  of  them  our  friends,  per 
haps.  I  knew  all  her  officers.  Oh,  there'll  be 
war,  Dick.  Run  up  the  ensign  and  dip  it.  Funny, 
but  I  feel  better." 

The  steward  joined  them  as  Dick  hoisted  the 
ensign. 

"  Where  will  you  eat,  sir  ? "  he  asked  respect- 
fully. 

"At  the  cabin  table  as  master  of  this  ship," 
said  Breen.  "This  is  Mr.  Halpin,  first  mate. 
Treat  him  as  such.  Mr.  Sawyer  is  still  second 


266  MASTERS    OF   MEN 

mate,  and  there  will  be  no  change  in  his  position 
for  the  present.  Call  him  to  dinner  and  serve 
him  at  once.  Then  prepare  the  bath-tub  and  pro 
cure  from  the  slop  chest  two  suits  of  clothing,  the 
best  that  you  have,  —  shirts,  underclothing,  socks, 
shoes,  everything  complete." 

"  Yes,  sir  —  yes,  sir." 

The  steward  went  down,  most  certainly  im 
pressed. 

At  one  bell,  before  the  port  watch  went  to 
dinner,  Breen  braced  the  ship  sharp  on  the  port 
tack ;  and  though  the  men,  when  they  began  the 
work,  moved  with  a  deliberation  that  was  a  sure 
index  of  their  doubt  and  dissatisfaction,  it  left 
them  before  many  of  Breen's  sharp,  clear-cut 
orders  burst  over  their  heads ;  and  later  in  the 
afternoon,  when  he  took  sights  for  his  longitude 
with  Captain  Bilker's  sextant,  they  gave  evidence 
of  being  as  fully  impressed  as  was  the  steward. 

Le  roi  est  mort.  Vive  le  roif  Great  is  the 
power  of  promise  and  powder  and  shot ! 

Three  weeks  later,  with  the  Sugar  Loaf  bearing 
ahead  and  to  port,  Breen  took  his  eyes  from  a 
spot  on  the  southern  horizon  to  back  the  main- 
yards  and  receive  a  Rio  Janeiro  pilot. 

"  What's  the  news  from  the  United  States  ? " 
he  asked. 

"  War  declared  on  Spain  nine  days  ago.  Didn't 
you  know?  Havana's  blockaded,  and  we're  on 


BARBARISM  267 

the  lookout  here  for  the  Oregon  and  Marietta. 
Seen  anything  of  'em  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  make  of  that?"  answered  Breen, 
handing  him  the  binoculars,  and  pointing  to  the 
southward.  The  pilot  looked. 

"  Oregon"  he  said  shortly.  " The  Marietta  is 
just  astern  of  her.  Just  my  luck.  I'd  ha'  taken 
her  in  if  you  hadn't  come  along." 

The  spot  grew  larger  and  took  on  form,  —  a 
broad-beamed,  one-masted,  two-funnelled  floating 
fortress,  —  rushing  along  at  steam-yacht  speed, 
with  the  pygmy  consort  in  her  wake.  At  the 
entrance  to  the  harbor  the  two  passed  the  Mary 
Earl,  the  big  battleship  ploughing  up  a  bow  wave 
halfway  to  the  top  of  her  ram  bow,  her  funnels 
belching,  her  engines  humming  —  hundreds  of 
white-clad  men  dotting  her  deck. 

"  Halpin,  we're  just  in  time,"  said  Breen,  with 
glistening  eyes.  "We'll  report  to  her  captain 
instead  of  the  consul.  It  will  save  complications. 
We'll  go  north  in  the  Oregon" 

"  And  the  ship  ? "  asked  Dick. 

"Can  take  care  of  herself.  The  official  log 
has  our  confessions.  Let  Sawyer  report  to  the 
consul." 

They  left  the  Mary  Earl  in  a  shore  boat,  Saw 
yer  and  the  little  steward  waving  hands  at  the 
gangway,  the  crew  cheering  from  the  rail  and 
rigging.  But  there  was  one  discordant  note  in 


268  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

the  godspeed.  Pig  Jones,  rejuvenated  and  re 
vengeful,  appeared  on  the  top  of  the  forward 
house  with  an  apronful  of  potatoes,  which  he 
threw  at  them  until  they  were  out  of  range. 
Then  they  heard  him  dare  the  remonstrating 
Sawyer  to  fight. 

"  She  is  still  a  hell  ship,"  said  Breen. 


BOOK  IV 

CIVILIZATION 
CHAPTER  XLI 

IT  is  night  on  the  Santiago  blockade  —  a  hot 
July  night  conducive  to  profanity  and  exces 
sive  libations  at  the  scuttle-butt ;  a  night  when 
men  breathe  the  muggy  air  with  extra  muscular 
effort,  and  care  little  for  their  speech  or  personal 
appearance ;  when  officers  don  pajamas  and  main 
tain  dignity  with  white  uniform  caps  —  when 
seamen  strip  to  underclothing,  and,  unspokenly, 
consign  dignity  to  the  lower  regions. 

There  are  three  lines  to  this  blockade:  an 
outside  semicircle  of  the  heavy  ships,  —  turreted 
fighters,  with  range  of  gun  fire  greater  than  the 
radius ;  an  inner  line  of  torpedo  boats,  converted 
yachts,  and  swift  tugs,  —  messengers  and  despatch 
bearers,  the  light  cavalry  of  a  fleet ;  within  this 
crescent,  a  row  of  small  steam  launches,  —  look 
outs,  —  well  supplied  with  binoculars,  and  with  but 
one  note  of  alarm  expected  and  hoped  of  them 
—  the  signal  that  the  imprisoned  fleet  within 
had  shown  signs  of  breaking  bonds.  A  brilliant 
pencil  of  light,  a  point  at  its  seaward  end,  a 

269 


270  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

broad  refulgence  where  it  impinges  on  the  rocky 
shores  of  the  harbour  mouth,  indicates  the  pres 
ence,  on  the  second  line,  of  the  search-light  ship, 
—  a  detailed  monster  of  the  outside  semicircle 
with  steam  sufficient  for  the  candle  power.  She 
is  relieved  every  four  hours,  and  the  change  is  the 
only  diversion  of  the  night  to  the  overstrained 
nerves  of  the  picket  crews. 

On  the  second  line,  with  bow  inshore  and  all 
lights  out  but  the  binnacle  lamp  in  the  conning 
tower,  lay  a  dun-coloured  torpedo  boat ;  and  close 
up  in  the  bow,  sprawled  face  up  on  the  turtle- 
back,  with  feet  resting  on  the  low  hand-rail,  lay 
Dick  Halpin.  He  was  not  sleeping;  he  was 
thinking.  Back  of  him  on  the  turtleback,  and 
farther  back  on  the  main  deck,  lay  his  shipmates, 
in  all  postures  and  in  a  common  frame  of  mind. 
Spasmodically  and  earnestly  they  reviled  the 
night,  the  heat,  the  luck,  —  and  each  other. 
They  anathematized  the  war,  the  Spanish,  the 
boat  and  her  equipment,  —  everything  within 
their  ken  on  that  hot  night  came  under  the 
ban  but  the  officer  who  commanded  and  the 
admiral  who  had  condemned  them. 

Dick,  to  escape  the  ceaseless  grumbling,  which 
could  not  wholly  voice  his  own  discontent,  had 
sought  the  farthest  corner,  and  lay  in  this  attitude 
most  conducive  to  philosophy,  trying  to  solve  the 
past  and  probe  the  future.  He  was  the  avowed 


CIVILIZATION  271 

friend  of  a  man  whom  he  had  hated  intensely  a 
few  months  before  —  a  man  who  had  admitted 
hating  him  then,  and  had  since  won  his  regard 
in  spite  of  himself,  who  had  sounded  his  praises 
to  two  ships'  companies,  and  had  secured  him  his 
present  rating  of  signalman  in  the  torpedo  boat  of 
which  he  himself  had  been  given  command.  Dick 
had  been  called  aft  on  the  quarterdeck  of  the  Ore 
gon  and  introduced  by  the  enthusiastic  Breen  as 
"  Mr."  Halpin  to  a  group  of  kindly  eyed  officers, 
who,  from  the  captain  down,  shook  his  hand, 
and  complimented  him  upon  his  skill  with  his 
fists.  Dick  gathered  that  Breen  had  described 
his  terrible  fight  with  the  giant  Pig  Jones. 
These  men  were  gentlemen,  and  their  congratu 
lations  were  sincere ;  yet  he  wondered  if  they 
would  have  complimented  one  of  themselves  as 
highly,  and  if  Breen  would  have  been  so  enthusi 
astic  if  the  feat  had  been  his  own.  Later,  this 
was  repeated  on  board  the  flagship,  which  they 
had  joined  at  Key  West,  and  he  had  listened 
to  kind  words  from  the  grave-faced  admiral, 
who  told  him  that  he  hoped  to  hear  further 
from  him  before  the  war  ended.  This  was  well 
—  more  than  well;  but  against  it  was  the  in 
fluence  of  his  early  training.  He  possessed  cour 
age,  surely,  which  he  shared  with  bull  dogs.  It 
was  the  commonest  of  human  attributes,  and 
it  was  not  enough.  Intelligence  —  education  — 


272  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

breeding  ?  Possibly.  But  opportunity  —  the  ac 
cident  of  time,  place,  and  environment  —  was 
necessary  to  bring  tangible  recognition  and  re 
ward  for  the  best  of  inherent  aptitudes,  and  it 
had  been  denied  him.  It  had  come  to  Breen,  but 
not  yet  to  him.  Would  the  war  bring  it,  as  the 
admiral  had  hoped  ?  He  had  been  relegated  to 
a  torpedo  boat,  which  ran  errands  in  the  day  and 
did  picket  duty  at  night.  He  had  watched,  safely 
out  of  range,  three  bombardments  of  the  forts, 
and  envied  men  the  wild  joy  of  being  under 
fire.  He  had  volunteered  among  the  hundreds 
who  had  responded  to  the  call  for  men  to  take 
the  Merrimac  in,  but  others  were  chosen,  and 
he  had  watched  them  go  by,  to  death  —  or 
opportunity. 

If  opportunity  should  come  to  him,  he  would 
seize  it;  if  not,  he  would  be  of  age  in  a  couple 
of  months ;  his  time  in  the  navy  would  be  up, 
and  there  would  be  something  due  him  from  his 
mother's  estate.  This  he  would  collect  quickly 
and  hurry  to  the  other  side  of  the  continent, 
where  Breen's  wedding  bells  could  not  disturb 
him.  Then  Mabel's  face  came  before  him,  and 
all  philosophy  left  him. 


CHAPTER  XLII 

"  TTALPIN,"  came  a  low  voice  from  the  dark- 

J__L  ness  amidships.  "  Halpin,"  it  sounded, 
nearer.  "Pass  the  word,  there,  for  Halpin." 
His  name  was  repeated  by  others,  and  he  arose 
to  his  feet. 

"The  old  man  wants  ye,"  said  a  man  old 
enough  to  be  Breen's  father. 

Dick  found  Breen  close  up  to  the  stern,  in 
about  the  same  attitude  which  he  himself  had 
assumed  forward,  —  flat  on  his  back,  with  his 
head  pillowed  on  the  bed  of  the  torpedo  tube. 

"  Want  me,  sir  ? "  he  asked,  saluting  in  the 
darkness. 

"  Yes,  Dick.  Lie  down  here,  and  never  mind 
the  '  sir.'  We're  aboard  the  hell  ship  for  a  time, 
and  there's  no  one  near.  I  want  to  talk  to 
you." 

Dick  stretched  himself  beside  his  captain,  and 
Breen,  after  a  full  minute's  silence,  said  softly 
and  slowly :  — 

"I  got  letters  to-day.     Did  you?" 

"No,"  answered  Dick.  "No  one  writes  to 
me." 

"They   write   about  you,   however.      I   wrote 

T  273 


274  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

from  Jupiter  Inlet  to  Miss  Arthur,  explaining 
where  I'd  disappeared  to,  and  telling  about  you 
and  something  of  our  experience  together.  I 
got  her  answer  to-day  —  been  chasing  me  all 
around  the  fleet.  She  is  very  glad  that  you 
did  not  desert,  and  says  that  she  expects  to  see 
you  coming  home  an  officer." 

"  An  officer ! "  gulped  Dick,  his  heart  beating 
painfully,  and  his  face  burning.  "Did  she  — 
really  —  speak  of  me?  An  officer!  But  that 
means  an  'officer  and  a  gentleman.'  Shall  you 
write  to  her  again?" 

"  Of  course." 

"  "Will  you  tell  her,  please,  that  I  am  grateful 
for  her  interest  in  me,  and  that  though  it  is 
impossible  for  me  under  the  law  to  come  home 
an  officer,  I  may  come  home  a  gentleman.  And 
say  that  I  am  heartily  ashamed  of  my  manner 
and  language  in  the  bridge  car,  and  thoroughly 
sorry  —  and  that  I  hope  she  will  pardon  and 
forget  it." 

"Eight,  I  will,"  laughed  Breen.  "What  did 
you  do  ?  Lay  her  out  for  looking  at  you  in  your 
old  ducks  and  coal  dust  ?  She  laid  me  out  for  it." 

"Worse,"  growled  Dick,  disgustedly.  "I  in 
sulted  her.  I'm  nothing  but  a  cad,  after  all." 

"  She  doesn't  waste  her  time  on  cads,  Dick," 
said  Breen,  gently  ;  "  but  what  kind  of  a  repu 
tation  have  you  up  there  in  that  town?  We've 


CIVILIZATION  275 

had  our  names  in  the  papers.  You  are  supposed 
to  have  murdered  me  that  night,  disposed  of  my 
body,  and  escaped.  Hence  our  disappearance." 

"  Oh,  I  know,"  said  Dick,  as  he  thought  of  the 
clipping  Bessie  had  sent  him.  "My  reputation 
will  admit  of  anything;  but  there  is  one  thing 
cleared  up,  which  I  have  learned  about  lately. 
Did  you  know  that  I  left  home  four  years  ago  a 
proven  thief  ? " 

"  Why,  no  —  I  heard  about  it ;  but  you  were 
cleared  at  the  time,  weren't  you  ? " 

"  Yes,  but  I  didn't  know  it.  I  didn't  know  until 
lately.  All  these  years  I  thought  I  was  considered 
a  jailbird  at  home,  and  that's  what  made  me  so 
ready  to  lick  that  crowd.  Pig  Jones  told  me  at 
the  wheel  one  night  when  he  was  drunk  enough 
to  talk  to  me  ;  but  I  didn't  speak  to  you  about  it 
on  account  —  "  He  hesitated. 

"  I  understand,  Dick.  Yes  —  a  brother  officer. 
He's  out  there  now,  bullying  good  men.  An 
officer  and  a  gentleman.  No,  the  government 
made  him  an  officer,  but  —  the  most  unpopular 
man  in  his  class,  they  say.  I  heard  about  that 
scrape  at  school  long  before  I  met  you  —  not  from 
his  sister,  however  —  from  a  friend  of  hers.  You 
certainly  acted  the  gentleman,  Dick,  until,  of 
course,  you  were  driven  to  desperation.  But  — 
I  wish  I  could  have  seen  that  chase  over  the 
desks."  Breen  finished  with  a  laugh. 


276  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

"  I  always  wanted  to  be  a  gentleman,"  said 
Dick,  gloomily  ;  "  but  the  navy  toughens  a  man, 
and  knocks  it  out  of  him.  But  at  that  time," 
he  raised  his  voice  slightly,  "  I'd  a  better  right 
to  the  title  than  he.  But  his  father  was  rich  and 
put  him  into  the  Academy,  while  I  — 

"  Kich  ?  "  queried  Breen  ;  "  not  so  very  rich  — 
not  so  rich,  I  think,  as  Richard  Halpin,  seaman 
gunner  for  Uncle  Sam.  What  made  you  ship, 
anyway,  with  all  that  money  coming  to  you  ? " 

"  Money,"  repeated  Dick.  "  Yes,  there  was  a 
little  due  me  when  I  came  of  age." 

"Four  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars  are 
waiting  for  you  up  in  that  little  town,  Miss  Arthur 
says.  The  lawyers  are  looking  for  you." 

"  "What ! "  exclaimed  Dick,  sitting  up. 

"That's  what  she  says.  Your  mother  left 
you  fifty  thousand,  and  your  uncle  —  you  know 
he  is  dead,  don't  you?"  Dick  nodded  in  the 
darkness. 

"  Your  uncle  died  intestate,  and  you  are  next  of 
kin.  Four  hundred  thousand  morei  Whew  !  — 
and  I've  nothing  but  my  pay.  ISTo  wonder  the 
girls  like  you,  Dick."  There  was  a  little  bitterness 
in  the  slight  laugh  with  which  Breen  concluded. 

"  But  why  didn't  I  know  this  ?  Why  did  no 
one  tell  me  ? " 

"  Couldn't  find  you.  l!^o  one  knew  where  you 
were.  I  told  Miss  Arthur  on  the  day  you  cleaned 


CIVILIZATION  277 

out  the  town  ;  and  I  suppose  you  were  shanghaied 
before  the  news  got  to  the  lawyer." 

"  Four  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars," 
muttered  Dick,  as  his  mind  flashed  back  to  his 
boyish  plans  for  study  and  advancement.  "  Why, 
a  man  could  be  a  gentleman  very  easily  with  all 
that  money,  couldn't  he  ? " 

"  Yes,  some  kinds  of  a  gentleman  —  all  kinds, 
if  he  is  born  one.  But  the  best  society  in  the  land 
will  welcome  you,  Dick.  Cut  your  hair,  and  tune 
up  a  little  when  your  time's  out.  You're  all  right." 

"  But  it's  not  all  —  not  enough.  Do  you  know 
that  I'd  give  it  all  for  an  appointment  to 
Annapolis  ? " 

"  All  the  money  in  the  world  wouldn't  buy  the 
appointment  at  your  age.  You're  too  old,-  and 
only  the  President  could  send  you  there.  There 
may  be  a  chance  in  this  mix  if  you  do  good  work 
and  the  admiral  recommends  you.  "Why,  with 
your  start  you  could  rush  through  in  two  years." 

"  Then  give  me  what  chance  you  can,"  said 
Dick,  vehemently.  "  Give  me  risky  work  —  the 
craziest  that  comes  along.  I'll  do  it." 

Breen  did  not  answer.  He  stood  erect  and  ele 
vated  a  pair  of  binoculars.  "  Something  up,"  he 
remarked.  Dick  also  arose  to  his  feet,  and  a  man 
hurried  aft  with  the  information  that  the  search 
light  was  shifting,  and  that  lights  were  moving 
about  at  the  harbour  mouth. 


278  MASTERS   OP   MEN 

"  I  see,"  answered  Breen,  the  glasses  still  to  his 
eyes.  "  Watch  the  flagship,  and  see  what  is  said. 
The  pickets  are  signalling." 

Coloured  lights  were  showing  from  the  inside 
line  ;  the  beam  of  light  from  the  battleship  on 
station  was  wavering  —  reaching  to  the  right  and 
left,  exposing  in  its  vivid  glare  first  one  shore, 
then  the  other.  But  barring  two  or  three  twin 
kling  points  in  the  darkness  without  the  glare, 
nothing  could  be  seen,  even  through  Breen's 
binoculars. 

"  The  flagship  is  signalling,  sir,"  said  Dick, 
straining  his  eyes  at  a  vertical  row  of  coloured 
lights  far  out  to  sea.  "  I  didn't  get  the  first  of  it, 
but  she  seems  to  be  telling  the  search-light  ship  to 
do  something  —  there  it  is,  sir — launch.  A  recon 
noitring  job." 

"Anything  for  us  yet?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"  We'll  wait.     Watch  out." 

Dick  went  forward,  returning  with  a  pair  of 
glasses,  and,  as  was  his  duty,  kept  close  watch  for 
signals  ;  but  nothing  showed.  The  minutes  went 
by,  while  the  twinkling  points  shoreward  went 
out  in  the  blackness,  and  the  wavering  search 
light  settled  down  to  its  steady  scrutiny  of  the 
channel.  Presently  the  humming  of  a  small 
engine  sounded  in  the  distance,  and  soon  after  a 
small  gray  spot  on  the  water  took  on  the  form 


CIVILIZATION  279 

and  detail  of  a  steam  launch,  coming  toward 
them  from  seaward. 

"  Boat  ahoy ! "  called  Breen  softly  as  the  launch 
drew  near.  The  engine  stopped. 

"  Hello,"  answered  a  voice  —  which  Dick  recog 
nized.  "  Is  that  you,  Mr.  Breen  ?  " 

"  Yes.     What's  up  ?  " 

"  I'll  come  alongside." 

The  launch  came  quietly  up  to  the  quarter,  and 
George  Arthur  stepped  aboard. 

"  I'm  caught,"  he  said  to  Breen  as  they  shook 
hands.  "  Fact  is,  I'm  sent  in  to  find  out  what 
they're  doing — and  that's  all.  I'm  supposed  to  do 
some  signalling,  and,  hang  it,  I  haven't  had  time 
to  learn  the  code ;  and  as  for  the  nightly  change, 
why,  I  left  it  aboard.  Can  you  give  it  to  me  ? " 

"I  can  do  better  —  give  you  my  signalman. 
Take  him  along  and  take  his  advice." 

"  Thanks  —  by  George,  yes ;  I'm  a  thousand 
times  obliged.  I've  got  to  go  in,  and  if  there's 
anything  up  I  must  flash  it  out  to  them.  Now  I 
feel  better." 

"  Go  along,  Halpin,"  said  Breen,  tersely. 

"  Halpin  ? "  queried  the  young  cadet.  "  "Well  — 
say,  now,  Mr.  Breen,  isn't  this  a  little  —  he's  a  pet 
of  yours,  I  know,  but  —  " 

"  You  have  applied  to  me  for  a  signalman,  and 
I  give  you  the  best  I  have,"  interrupted  Breen, 
sternly.  "  You  can  suit  yourself,  sir." 


280  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

"  Oh,  well,  all  right  —  all  right,  sir,"  answered 
the  other.  "  Send  him  aboard  when  you're  ready, 
sir." 

He  strode  toward  the  rail  and  stepped  aboard 
the  launch.  "  Go  along,  Dick,"  said  Breen,  softly. 
"  If  he  gets  into  trouble,  get  him  out  of  it.  I'll 
see  to  the  credit." 

"  Thank  you.  Bully  for  you,"  was  Dick's  unsea- 
manly  answer  to  his  officer.  Then  he  jumped  into 
the  launch. 

"  Go  ahead,"  ordered  the  cadet ;  and  the  engine 
started.  "  I  am  told,"  he  said  sourly  to  Dick,  "  to 
take  your  advice.  If  I  need  it,  I'll  call  on  you." 

"  Very  good,  sir,"  returned  Dick,  quietly,  as  he 
seated  himself  beside  him. 

The  little  craft  shot  ahead  into  the  blackness 
beneath  and  without  that  brilliant  shaft  from  the 
search-light.  The  young  officer  had  the  wheel. 
There  were  two  other  men  in  the  cockpit,  silently 
crouching  with  elbows  on  their  knees,  and  aft  in 
the  other  cockpit  a  machinist  in  charge  of  the 
engine. 

Nothing  more  was  said ;  the  launch  traversed 
the  short  two  miles  to  the  harbour  mouth,  passing 
the  inner  picket  line  unseen  and  unhailed,  Dick 
pondering  on  the  strange  hatred  which  this 
pampered  young  gentleman  had  felt  for  him 
since  the  trouble  in  school.  This  was  their 
first  personal  interview  since  that  exciting  chase 


CIVILIZATION  281 

over  red  desks,  but  George  Arthur  had  been 
on  the  New  Yor^s  quarter-deck  when  he  had  been 
called  aft  to  meet  the  officers,  and  had  shown  his 
attitude  toward  him  in  the  derisive  smile  that  had 
come  to  his  face,  and  in  the  superior  stare  with 
which  he  had  regarded  him  every  time  that  chance 
had  thrown  Dick  into  his  path. 

"  "We  must  be  close  in,  sir,"  suggested  the  ma 
chinist,  softly.  "  Shall  I  slow  down  so  as  to  quiet 
the  engine  a  little  ?  "  , 

"  Yes  —  yes,"  answered  Arthur,  quickly.  "  Slow 
down  —  stop  altogether.  I  can't  see  a  thing. 
Can  any  one  see  ? " 

"  Morro's  broad  on  the  starboard  bow,  sir,"  said 
Dick,  whose  eyes  were  good. 

"And  there's  land  right  ahead  —  high  land," 
said  the  engineer. 

"Eight  —  I  see.  Must  be  Socapa.  "Where  the 
deuce  were  those  lights,  anyhow  ?  "What  am  I  to 
find  out  in  here  ?  Nothing  going  on  that  I  see." 

"  There  was  a  log  boom  across  the  channel  a  little 
farther  in,  sir,"  said  one  of  the  men.  "  If  it  is  still 
there,  it  proves  that  no  torpedo  boats  are  out  to 
night." 

"  But  if  we  get  that  far,"  added  Dick,  "  we 
might  not  get  back." 

"  I  told  you  that  if  I  wanted  your  advice  I'd  call 
on  you,"  said  the  cadet,  angrily.  "Remember 
that." 


282  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

Dick  bit  his  lip,  but  blamed  only  himself. 

"  Go  ahead  with  the  machine,"  ordered  the 
young  gentleman.  "  We'll  see  about  that  boom, 
anyway." 

Dick  grinned  bitterly. 

The  boat  went  ahead  at  half  speed.  In  five 
minutes  one  of  the  men  in  the  cockpit,  who  had 
been  looking  astern,  said,  "  Light  over  to  star 
board,  sir —  well  abaft  the  beam."  They  looked, 
but  saw  nothing;  yet  the  man  repeated  that  he 
had  seen  it,  close  down  to  the  water.  Then  a 
flash  as  of  mild  lightning  lit  up  the  bluff  to  star 
board,  a  crackling  report  followed,  and  water 
splashed  in  their  faces.  Then  followed  shouts 
in  Spanish,  and  other  shots,  while  a  small  search 
light  from  the  battlements  sought  them  out,  reveal 
ing  to  them  as  it  wandered  a  clear  expanse  of 
channel  ahead,  a  string  of  logs  partly  stowed  under 
the  batteries,  and  two  armed  launches  putting  out 
from  the  small  landing  astern  and  to  starboard, 
where  the  man  had  seen  the  light.  The  search 
light  from  above  caught  them,  and  a  rapid-fire 
blast  of  small  shot  and  shell  ensued,  while  the 
search-light  from  seaward  lifted  and  flooded  the 
batteries.  The  two  sailors  lay  quietly  down  in 
the  bottom  of  the  boat. 

""We've  got  to  get  out  o'  here,  sir,"  said  the 
engineer.  "  I'll  give  her  full  speed,  if  you'll  put 
the  wheel  over." 


CIVILIZATION  283 

"  Yes,  give  it  to  her  ! "  yelled  the  young  officer, 
excitedly,  as  he  ground  on  the  wheel ;  and  then,  to 
Dick,  "This  is  your  fault,  d —  you.  Oh-oh-oh 
o-o-o-o-o ! "  The  speech  ended  in  a  groan,  and 
George  tumbled  to  the  bottom  beside  the  two 
sailors.  Dick  sprang  to  the  wheel.  "  Give  her 
steam,"  he  called.  "  We'll  have  to  run  in  —  not 
out.  Mr.  Arthur's  hit.  We  can't  get  out  now." 

There  was  no  answer,  and  Dick,  looking  aft, 
saw  the  engineer  leaning  over  the  combing  of  his 
cockpit,  as  if  he  were  dozing. 

He  steadied  the  launch  up  the  channel.  The 
engineer  had  opened  the  steam  valve  to  its  widest, 
and  the  little  launch  stormed  ahead,  followed  by 
the  pitiless  search-light  from  the  hill,  and  pelted 
by  a  sputtering  fusillade  of  shot  from  the  batteries 
and  from  the  pursuing  launches  astern ;  but  with 
four  men  struck  down,  the  fates  seemed  satisfied. 
Dick  felt  the  wind  of  several  shots,  felt  the  graz 
ing  of  several  bullets,  and  felt  water  rising  over 
his  ankles;  but  no  harm  came  to  him.  He 
steered  on,  past  the  sunken  Merrimac,  around  the 
eastern  face  of  Smith  Cay,  —  and  here  the  search 
light  lost  him  and  the  gun  fire  ceased,  —  across  to 
the  western  shore  of  the  harbour,  and  with  fires 
nearly  extinct  grounded  the  launch  on  a  shelving 
beach  at  the  foot  of  a  hill.  The  pursuing  launches 
had  turned  back,  confident,  perhaps,  that  daylight 
would  show  them  their  quarry. 


CHAPTER  XLIII 

WITH  a  little  trouble  in  the  darkness,  for 
Dick  was  not  a  competent  engineer,  he 
shut  off  steam  and  regulated  the  ^fire ;  then  he  ex 
amined  the  men.  The  machinist  was  dead,  so 
were  the  two  sailors ;  they  were  all  strangers  to 
him,  and  none  had  spoken  or  voluntarily  moved 
after  the  shots  that  had  killed  them.  George 
Arthur,  partly  immersed  in  water  at  the  bottom 
of  the  cockpit,  was  breathing  painfully.  Dick 
lifted  his  head,  and  gently  —  for  this  was  Mabel's 
brother  —  inquired:  "Are  you  badly  hurt,  sir? 
What  can  I  do  2 " 

"  Is —  it  —  you,  Dick  ?  "  gasped  George,  faintly. 
"I  —  am  —  done  for,  I  think.  I  got  —  it  —  in  the 
back  —  the  back  bone.  I  can't  —  move  my  — 
legs.  Can  —  you  lift  —  me  out  of  —  the  water. 
It  smarts  —  oh,  how  —  it  smarts ! " 

Dick  lifted  him  bodily  to  the  transom  seat  in 
the  cockpit,  and  pillowed  his  head  on  a  small  cork 
fender. 

"  Where  —  are  —  we  —  now  ?  "  asked  George, 
when  his  groans  had  ceased. 

"In  the  harbour,  sir.     I've  beached  her  over 

284 


CIVILIZATION  285 

to  the  westward.  We'll  have  to  sneak  out  later, 
when  they've  stopped  looking  for  us." 

"  Yes.  Try  it.  Be  careful.  It  won't  matter 
to  me.  I'm  going  —  fast,  Dick." 

His  voice  was  certainly  weaker. 

"  I  hope  not,  sir.  If  you  can  hold  out  until  we 
get  to  a  surgeon  —  " 

He  stopped,  realizing  the  mockery  in  his  words. 

"  Dick,"  said  George,  after  an  interval  of  silence, 
"I  want  —  you  — to  forgive  me  —  if  —  you  can, 
for  —  that  matter  —  in  —  school." 

"  Oh,  don't  speak  of  that,  George  —  don't  think 
of  it  at  all.  Why,  you  straightened  it  all  out  at 
the  time." 

"Under  —  compulsion  —  yes.     To  —  please  my 

—  sister.     Tell  —  me  you  forgive  —  me." 

"  I  do,"  answered  Dick,  tears  starting  to  his 
eyes.  "With  all  my  heart  and  soul  I  do." 

There  was  a  silence  for  a  little,  then  George 
spoke  again. 

"  It  —  was  the  only  thing  —  that  ever  —  came 

—  between    us  —  that     ever     came  —  between  — 
Mabel  and   me.    She    always  wanted  —  me  —  to 
write  —  to  you;  but  —  I  would  not  —  not  —  even 
for  —  her.      Tell   her  —  that   I  —  did,    will   you? 
Tell  her  that  I  apologized  —  to  you." 

"  I  will — when  I  see  her,"  answered  Dick  in  a 
choked  voice.  "  I'll  tell  her  if  you  want  me  to. 
But  it  never  mattered  at  all,  George." 


286  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

"  Yes  —  it  —  did.     I  was  a  cur." 

His  breathing  grew  weaker  and  weaker  while 
Dick  held  his  hand ;  then  he  lifted  his  head  a  few 
inches  and  spoke  clearly  and  distinctly,  with  the  last 
flutter  of  strength  and  prescience  which  comes  to 
the  dying. 

"  Dick,"  he  said,  "  they  were  rigging  in  the  log 
boom  across  the  channel.  It  means  something  — 
a  torpedo  attack  on  the  fleet,  perhaps.  Run  the 
batteries  and  report  this  to  the  admiral.  It  will 
make  you.  Then"  —his  head  sank  down  —  "go 
—  to  —  Mabel.  Be  —  good  —  to  —  my  —  sister." 

He  said  no  more ;  and  Dick  did  not  know  the 
moment  when  the  wayward  spirit  took  flight. 
He  was  weeping  convulsively,  for  the  first  time 
since  the  day  when  little  Bessie  Fleming's  sym 
pathy  had  broken  him  down  and  humanized  him. 

But  there  was  work  to  be  done.  He  was  in  a 
hostile  harbour,  with  four  dead  men  and  a  leaky 
steam  launch.  Three  plans  flashed  through  his 
mind,  each  fraught  with  danger.  He  could 
leave  the  launch  to  the  Spanish  and  the  dead  to 
the  buzzards,  climb  the  hill,  and  strike  the  coast  a 
mile  south  ;  here,  if  not  caught  by  the  Spaniards, 
he  might  attract  the  attention  of  one  of  the  small 
craft  of  the  fleet  and  be  taken  off.  Or,  he  could 
skirt  the  beach  to  the  eastward,  swim  two  chan 
nels  of  three  or  four  hundred  yards'  width,  and, 
if  lucky,  reach  Guantanamo  where  the  ships  coaled, 


CIVILIZATION  287 

or  the  army  in  the  hills  to  the  northward.  Or  he 
could  patch  up  the  holes  in  the  launch,  make 
steam,  and  in  the  gray  of  the  morning,  when  the 
search-light  lifted  and  full  light  of  day  had  not 
come  to  aid  the  gunners  in  their  aim,  he  could  go 
out  the  way  that  he  had  come.  There  was  more 
chance  of  success  in  the  first  two  plans  than  in  the 
last ;  but  such  success  would  bring  him  only  a  few 
congratulations  on  his  good  luck  in  saving  his  life. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  running  of  three  batteries, 
the  bringing  out  of  the  body  of  an  officer,  and  the 
report  —  even  a  tardy  report  —  of  the  removal  of 
the  log  boom,  was  what  he  had  wished  for  — 
opportunity,  which  comes  to  but  a  favoured  few. 
He  might  die  in  the  attempt,  but  then  —  her 
brother  had  died.  If  he  lived  through  it,  he 
would  have  recognition,  honour,  promotion — per 
haps  an  appointment  to  Annapolis.  He  saw 
himself  in  uniform,  a  commissioned  officer  of  the 
United  States  navy  —  an  "  officer  and  a  gentle 
man  "  ;  and  with  the  tears  yet  undried  on  his  face 
his  resolution  was  taken. 

It  was  about  eleven  o'clock,  and  when  the 
launch  had  grounded  the  ebb  tide,  as  he  reasoned 
by  an  inspection  of  the  beach,  was  about  two  hours 
old.  The  water  had  flooded  the  fire  as  the  boat 
settled,  and  now,  as  the  tide  receded,  it  was  drib 
bling  out  through  the  shotholes  in  the  bottom. 
Dick  dared  not  light  a  lantern ;  he  could  only 


288  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

search  along  the  bottom,  plank  by  plank,  feeling 
with  his  fingers,  and  stopping  each  hole  as  he 
found  it  with  a  plug  whittled  from  a  swab  handle. 
The  boat  lay  heeled  to  starboard,  and  the  holes 
on  this  side  could  only  be  reached  from  within ; 
but  as  the  shots  had  all  come  from  the  east  side 
of  the  channel,  he  hoped  that  there  would  be  few. 
Most  that  he  found  were  bullet  holes ;  but  here  and 
there  was  a  ragged  aperture  made  by  a  one-pound 
shot,  and  one  gaping  hole  near  the  water  line  in 
dicated  the  work  of  a  six-pounder.  Before  long 
he  realized  that  the  night  would  be  all  too  short 
for  the  task  of  making  that  launch  seaworthy, 
and  thankfully  computed  that  the  tide  could  not 
get  back  until  near  daylight.  This  would  leave 
him  scant  time  to  fire  up  and  run  out  before  the 
morning  sun  made  him  too  visible  for  safety  ;  but 
between  broad  daylight  and  the  blinding  glare  of 
a  search-light  he  would  choose  the  first. 

He  found  pump-tacks  and  a  hammer  in  the 
engineer's  locker ;  he  cut  patches  of  canvas  from 
the  white  jumpers  of  the  dead  sailors,  and  tacked 
them  over  all  holes  too  large  or  too  ragged  to  be 
plugged.  He  worked  feverishly,  pantingly,  inces 
santly,  knowing  neither  hunger,  thirst,  nor  fear. 
He  was  inspired  not  so  much  by  patriotism  as 
by  Mabel  Arthur's  complimentary  injunction  to 
"come  home  an  officer." 

Daylight  found  him   haggard  and  exhausted, 


CIVILIZATION  289 

with  all  holes  that  he  had  found  plugged  or 
patched,  with  steam  hissing  hot  in  the  small 
boiler,  and  his  silent  passengers  laid  out  on  the 
forward  transoms.  It  was  time  to  go,  and  he  was 
ready  to  go,  yet  the  tide  had  but  just  reached  the 
rudder  of  the  launch  and  would  not  float  it  for 
an  hour.  And  while  he  waited  he  watched  with 
burning  eyes  the  panorama  unfolding  as  the  dark 
ness  gave  place  to  the  sudden  day  of  the  tropics. 
The  launch  lay  near  the  middle  of  a  concave 
of  beach,  the  arc  of  which  ranged  about  east  and 
west.  Off  to  the  west,  and  farther  still  to  the 
north,  were  broad  reaches  of  sparkling  water, 
bordered  by  partly  wooded  slopes  of  steep  ground. 
To  the  east  lay  the  opposite  shore  of  the  channel, 
which  at  a  high  bluff  a  little  farther  in  broke 
sharply  to  the  northeast  and  extended  in  a  straight 
line  to  the  city  of  Santiago,  two  miles  away. 
There  were  a  few  habitations  in  sight  among  the 
trees,  and  here  and  there  on  the  bay  small  sail  and 
steam  craft,  which  paid  no  attention  to  the  gray 
spot  on  the  southern  beach.  And  after  a  cursory 
inspection  of  each  Dick  paid  as  little  attention  to 
them.  His  eyes  were  fixed  on  six  black  craft  at 
anchor  just  below  the  city,  —  four  cruisers  and 
two  torpedo  boats.  Bunting  was  rising  and  fall 
ing  from  the  signal  yards  of  all,  and  thick,  black 
smoke  was  belching  from  the  funnels.  It  was 
Cervera's  fleet,  and  it  was  getting  up  steam, 
u 


CHAPTER  XLIY 

NO  mere  shifting  of  berths  required  all  that 
smoke,  and  Dick  knew  it.  It  meant  a  full 
head  of  steam,  and  this  meant  full  speed.  The 
ships  were  going  out  —  to  fight  or  run.  Here 
was  his  opportunity,  and  he  was  balked  by  the 
tide.  He  pushed  desperately,  but  the  heavy 
launch  would  not  move,  and  in  a  state  bordering 
on  insanity  he  paced  up  and  down  the  beach, 
until  he  realized  that  the  presence  of  the  launch  in 
the  harbour  was  known,  and  that  his  white  duck 
suit  made  a  conspicuous  mark  against  the  dull 
green  of  the  hill  behind  him.  Then  he  hid  in  the 
after  cockpit  and  tried  to  compose  his  nerves  by 
grooming  the  engine. 

An  hour  he  waited,  occasionally  peeping  out  at 
the  squadron  up  the  bay,  wondering  why  he 
was  not  sought  for  by  the  launches  that  had 
chased  him  in.  Then  a  slight  tremor  in  the  boat 
aroused  him  to  a  second  effort  to  launch  her. 
This  time,  with  the  help  of  the  reversed  engine, 
he  succeeded ;  the  craft  backed  and  floated,  but 
before  he  could  shift  the  helm  to  throw  her 
around  he  felt  water  on  his  feet  and  knew  that 
somewhere  a  gaping  hole  had  escaped  his  notice. 

290 


CIVILIZATION  291 

The  water  came  too  fast  for  safety,  and  he  saw, 
by  standing  erect,  that  it  came  from  underneath 
the  forward  deck,  probably  on  the  starboard  side 
of  the  forefoot,  where  he  had  not  been  able  to  see 
or  feel.  He  reversed  the  engine,  heeled  the  boat 
to  port  as  it  grounded,  and  set  desperately  to 
work. 

He  found  the  leak  —  the  largest  hole  of  all  —  a 
whole  plank  end  carried  away.  There  was  a  small 
saw  in  the  locker,  and  with  its  help  he  robbed  the 
cockpit  combing  of  a  section,  and  with  strenuous 
effort  —  digging  a  hole  in  the  sand  for  room  to 
wield  the  hammer  —  he  covered  the  hole.  But  it 
was  a  flat  plank  over  a  concave  surface  ;  there 
was  caulking  to  be  done,  and  over  all  was  needed 
a  canvas  patch  to  protect  it  from  the  wash. 
"When  the  job  was  done,  and  he  stood  erect, 
dripping  wet  and  faint  with  hunger  and  fatigue, 
the  sun  was  high,  and  he  saw  the  black  ships 
under  way,  just  leaving  their  buoys. 

His  opportunity  was  being  reduced  to  a  matter 
of  effort  expended  and  good  intent ;  yet  this  was 
enough,  could  he  but  beat  that  squadron  out  to 
sea  and  make  his  presence  known.  He  sprang 
aboard,  backed  the  engine  under  a  full  head  of 
steam,  and  the  boat  pulled  slowly  off.  No  more 
water  came  in.  Steering  by  the  tiller,  he  threw 
her  around  and  went  ahead,  rounding  Caracoles 
Point  into  the  west  channel  past  Smith  Cay.  He 


292  MASTERS    OF   MEN 

chose  this  route  because,  though  he  risked  possi 
ble  small-arm  fire  from  the  inshore  side  of  Socapa 
Battery  up  on  the  hill,  he  would  avoid  the  atten 
tion  of  the  mounted  guns  of  the  Catalina  Battery 
on  the  east  shore  until  he  rounded  Puntilla,  nearly 
abreast.  Thankful  for  the  good  fortune  that  had 
given  him  access  to  Breen's  charts,  he  rushed  the 
little  craft  down  the  channel  by  memory  of  what 
the  charts  had  told  him,  turned  east  toward  Pun 
tilla,  and  had  almost  reached  it,  when  a  fusillade 
began  on  the  hilltop  astern,  and  a  shower  of  bul 
lets  spattered  the  water.  Suddenly  he  felt  a  sting 
ing  pain  in  his  left  thigh,  and  an  almost  over 
powering  weakness  came  over  him ;  but,  seated 
on  the  engineer's  stool,  he  managed  to  keep  his 
balance,  and  soon  the  shock  of  the  impact  left 
him,  though  the  stinging  pain  and  the  weakness 
remained. 

The  fusillade  continued,  and  out  of  the  corner 
of  his  eye  he  saw  men  from  the  Socapa  Battery 
running  down  the  hill  to  intercept  him  when  he 
had  rounded  the  point.  Some  paused  to  fire  at 
him,  and  some  who  remained  behind  worked  at 
machine  guns,  turning  and  training  them  on  the 
small  gray  floating  hearse  with  its  four  dead  and 
its  wounded  driver.  Soon  these  guns  belched 
their  message,  and  larger  shot  peppered  the  water 
around  the  launch.  And  Dick,  steering  wild, 
barely  able  to  keep  his  seat,  totally  unable  to 


CIVILIZATION  293 

feed  his  fire  and  replenish  steam,  yet  heard  dis 
tinctly  over  the  rattle  of  gun  fire  the  sound  of  a 
church  bell  behind  him  on  Smith  Cay,  calling  the 
faithful  few  that  had  remained  on  the  island  to 
Sunday  morning  worship.  But  down  on  the 
wharf  of  the  island  men  had  collected  with  rifles, 
and  a  bullet  through  his  left  arm  told  him  that 
Christian  brotherhood  was  elastic.  They  were 
trying  to  kill  him  —  these  men  of  his  faith  ;  and 
when  they  had  done  so,  they  would  probably  heed 
the  bell.  Seeing  dimly,  as  though  a  fog  had  set 
tled  down  on  the  water,  he  rounded  the  dock  at 
Caracoles  Point,  and  headed  south,  immediately 
receiving  the  greeting  of  the  Catalina  Battery. 
No  shells  were  sent,  but  solid  shot,  large  and 
small,  crashed  and  whistled  around  his  ears.  Far 
out  to  sea  lay  a  high-bowed  battleship  —  the  only 
craft  of  the  American  fleet  discernible  between 
the  jaws  of  the  channel  mouth.  He  strained 
his  dimmed  eyes  in  the  effort  to  focus  and  iden 
tify  her,  and  barely  knew  the  Iowa.  She  lay 
bows  on  to  him,  silent  and  inert.  His  thoughts 
were  hardly  coherent  now,  but  with  time  he 
would  have  prayed  for  interference  from  that 
quiet,  gray  monster  out  there,  one  shell  from 
which  could  silence  this  venomous  hail  of  lead 
and  steel.  He  turned,  painfully,  and  looked  back. 
Around  Smith  Cay  was  coming  the  leading  ship 
of  the  Spanish  fleet,  a  two-funnelled,  two-masted, 


294  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

ram-bowed  cruiser,  glistening  black  in  the  morn 
ing  sun.  Among  the  battle  flags  aloft  was  the 
flag  of  an  admiral.  She  was  piling  up  a  bow 
wave  bigger  than  his  small  launch ;  she  would 
beat  him  out,  for  he  was  not  yet  abreast  of  the 
Estrella  Battery.  Over  the  steep  slope  of  the 
island  he  saw  the  spars  of  the  second  in  line. 
There  would  be  an  action  —  in  which  he  could 
have  no  share.  He  would  be  shot  to  death  before 
it  began. 

But  as  he  looked  ahead,  half  blind  in  his  weak 
ness,  and  endeavoured  to  steady  his  craft  to  a 
straighter  course,  he  became  aware  that  gun  fire 
had  ceased.  The  Catalina  Battery  was  silent,  the 
Estrella  had  not  begun,  the  riflemen  from  the 
Socapa  Battery  to  starboard  were  leaning  on 
their  grounded  arms  and  watching  him.  At  one 
side  stood  a  Spanish  officer  with  drawn  sword, 
the  point  of  which  touched  the  ground.  In  his 
left  hand  was  his  cap,  which,  as  Dick  looked,  he 
raised  to  a  level  with  his  face,  and  slowly  lowered. 
Dick's  cap  was  gone,  he  knew  not  when  or  where, 
but,  wounded  and  weak,  half-crazed  from  the  or 
deal,  he  yet  recognized  the  chivalry  of  the  act, 
and  responded  by  lowering  his  head.  Then  there 
came  to  him  a  ringing  hail  in  pure  English  : 
"  Proceed  with  your  dead,  American." 
And  the  leaky  launch,  with  its  crippled  helms 
man  and  its  cargo  of  corpses,  passed  slowly  by 


" '  PROCEED  WITH  YOUR  DEAD,  AMERICAN.' 


CIVILIZATION  295 

the  Estrella  Battery,  whose  gunners  stood  up  and 
waved  their  hands.  What  signal  had  flashed 
back  and  forth  across  the  channel  can  only  be  sur 
mised.  Possibly  it  concerned  the  shame  of  firing 
on  an  ambulance ;  it  certainly  had  no  bearing  on 
or  reference  to  Dick's  dwindling  opportunity  — 
the  prompting  spirit  of  that  armistice  could  not 
have  guessed  that  this  lunacy  was  born  of  a  girl's 
friendly  phrasing  of  a  compliment. 

But  neither  signals  nor  soldierly  ethics  influ 
enced  the  gunners  of  the  Morro  batteries  at  the 
mouth  of  the  harbour.  They  received  the  slowly 
creeping,  half-filled  little  craft  with  roaring  pro 
tests  from  heavy  guns  and  a  shower  of  projectiles, 
large  and  small.  The  tiller  was  shot  out  of  Dick's 
hand,  and  the  launch,  a  port-helmed  craft,  sheered 
out  in  the  channel ;  a  one-pound  shot  pierced  the 
boiler,  and  the  pent-up  steam  escaped  in  a  wheez 
ing  whistle ;  a  small  shell  exploded  in  the  forward 
cockpit,  disturbing  the  dead  and  shattering  the 
bottom ;  a  fragment  of  steel  ploughed  through 
Dick's  already  maimed  left  arm,  and  he  sank  in 
a  heap ;  then,  as  the  launch  gently  dived  to  the 
bottom,  he  found  himself  immersed,  partly  revived 
by  the  shock  of  cold  water,  weakly  struggling 
with  his  still  uninjured  right  arm  and  leg  to  reach 
the  surface.  Before  he  did  so  a  huge  black  mass 
struck  him  in  the  ribs,  and  in  a  rush  of  water  he 
slid  up  —  hung  like  a  limp  towel  over  a  rack  —  on 


296  MASTERS    OF    MEN 

the  slanting  steel  ram.  of  the  outbound  Spanish 
flagship. 

Clinging  desperately  to  the  sharp  edge,  chok 
ing  in  the  small  Niagara  piled  up  by  the  cruiser's 
rush,  he  looked  up  at  swarthy  faces  of  men  above. 
They  were  sailors,  and  the  fraternity  of  the  sea 
was  in  them.  They  slid  down  with  ropes  and 
hauled  him  up ;  then  one,  smiling  like  a  mother, 
forced  a  bottle  to  his  lips  and  poured  whiskey 
down  his  throat. 

"  What  you  say,  eh,  sheepmate  ? "  he  said  jovially. 
"What  you  call  him  —  Datch  Careege?  I  once 
sheep  in  Americano  sheep.  Adios,  sheepmate." 

An  officer  called,  and  the  men  went  to  their 
stations  as  a  gun  spoke  to  seaward.  Dick,  lying 
helpless  on  the  deck,  facing  aft,  warmed  by  the 
stimulant  to  an  interest  in  his  surroundings,  saw 
the  large  Hontoria  gun  in  the  forward  turret 
swing  slowly  to  port.  Then  it  belched,  and  the 
battle  was  on. 


CHAPTER  XLY 

HUNTING  is  an  ancient  institution ;  it  began 
when  the  first  monera  found  others  in 
their  way.  Man  was  a  hunter  when,  more  brute 
than  human,  he  fought  his  enemies  with  claws 
and  teeth.  Then,  with  the  development  of  his 
prehensile  thumb,  he  brought  to  his  aid  clubs 
and  stones.  The  club  became  a  mace,  later  a 
tomahawk  of  stone  or  iron,  and  for  the  speedier 
propulsion  of  the  stone  was  invented  the  sling. 
The  sling  suggested  the  catapult  and  the  bow ; 
the  edge  of  the  tomahawk  prompted  the  knife, 
the  spear,  and  the  sword.  Man  now  called  him 
self  civilized,  and  with  his  civilization  came  a  new 
weapon  —  brain.  Then  diplomacy  and  business 
method  came  into  vogue  as  potent  weapons  in 
warfare.  Then  came  gunpowder,  and  the  hol 
low  tube  to  confine  it  and  direct  the  projectile 
driven  by  its  expansion. 

These  were  great  inventions,  superseding  the 
spear  and  the  knife,  the  tomahawk  and  the  bow, 
leaving  only  the  sword  —  a  cumbersome  article  of 
dress.  The  hollow  tube  developed  into  the  rapid- 
fire  rifle,  the  solid  projectile  into  a  shell.  And  to 
aid  this  gun  to  fire  its  shell  to  best  advantage, 

297 


298  MASTERS    OF    MEN 

science  was  cultivated,  and  the  battleship — the 
culmination  of  every  art,  trade,  and  invention  of 
civilized  man,  was  produced  to  carry  the  gun 
which  fired  the  shell.  But  through  every  change 
of  weapon  and  method,  in  battle  or  in  business, 
man,  the  hunter,  has  remained  the  same.  Singly 
or  collectively,  as  family,  tribe,  or  nation,  he  suc 
ceeds  and  survives  only  by  the  destruction  of  his 
enemies.  He  is  still  a  hunter,  and  on  this  bright 
Sunday  morning,  near  the  end  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  Dick  Halpin,  wounded,  faint,  and  dis 
couraged,  played  a  passive  part  in  one  of  the 
fiercest  hunts  that  ever  occurred  on  earth.  Osten 
sibly,  it  was  a  duel  between  the  representatives 
of  two  warring  nations,  in  reality,  a  chase  —  of 
men  by  men,  with  victory  for  a  prize,  and  with 
the  ethical  considerations  of  honour,  glory,  and 
patriotism  but  little  in  advance  of  the  mercenary 
consideration  of  bounty.  And  the  weapons  of  the 
hunters  were  the  most  deadly  devised  by  inventive 
genius,  ranging  from  machine  guns,  capable  of  sixty 
shots  a  minute,  through  the  various  grades  of  larger 
calibers  to  turreted  rifles  which  spoke  only  twelve 
times  an  hour,  but  which  sent  pointed  cylinders 
of  over  half  a  ton's  weight  through  foot-thick 
steel  walls  to  explode  within. 

Parched  with  thirst,  and  bleeding,  his  arm  and 
leg  numb  with  pain,  Dick  Halpin  lay  under  the 
hot  sun  on  the  hotter  deck,  with  two  rills  of  pink- 


CIVILIZATION  299 

ish  water  trickling  from  bis  drenched  clothing  to 
the  scuppers,  —  one  to  starboard,  one  to  port, — 
and  took  such  cognizance  of  the  hunt  as  was  in 
his  power.  Facing  aft,  he  saw  officers  on  the 
bridge  paying  him  no  attention  whatever;  later, 
as  the  ship  rang  with  the  blows  of  projectiles, 
they  disappeared  —  he  knew  not  where.  Shells 
were  crashing  into  the  hull  beneath  him,  coming 
from  ahead  and  to  port,  but  he  could  not  move  to 
look,  nor  did  he  care  to. 

Far  back  on  the  starboard  quarter  was  being 
enacted  a  scene  of  the  terrible  drama  that  would 
have  engaged  a  livelier  attention  than  his.  The 
three  following  cruisers  were  drawing  to  port, 
the  leader  just  discernible  past  the  forward  tur 
ret  ;  but  the  two  torpedo  boats  which  brought  up 
the  rear  had  swerved  inshore,  as  though  to  avoid 
the  fire  from  the  American  ships,  and  charging 
across  the  wake  of  the  parade  was  a  clipper- 
bowed  converted  yacht,  almost  hidden  in  the 
smoke  of  her  guns.  She  was  hunting,  and  her 
prey  was  the  torpedo  contingent.  Spitting  fire 
and  steel  through  the  cloud  of  smoke  which 
almost  enveloped  her,  the  rattle  of  her  guns 
drowned  in  the  nearer  volume  of  sound,  she 
passed  out  of  Dick's  sight  behind  the  turret  and 
superstructure,  then  emerged  into  view  on  the 
starboard  quarter.  One  torpedo  boat  turned 
shoreward,  steam  and  smoke  oozing  from  her 


300  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

riven  hull,  and  a  few  minutes  later  seemed  to  melt 
away  in  the  surf  of  the  beach ;  the  other  kept  on, 
smoking  like  her  sister,  until  a  violent  explosion 
occurred  amidships.  She  settled  by  the  stern, 
her  bow  lifted  like  the  nose  of  a  drowning  dog, 
then  sank ;  again  it  lifted,  higher  and  higher, 
until  a  third  of  the  keel  was  exposed,  and  in  a 
cloud  of  steam  she  slid  stern  first  to  the  bottom. 

The  flagship  rang  and  crashed  and  roared  with 
the  noise  of  shells  received  and  sent.  There  was 
not  a  man  to  be  seen  on  her  deck,  but  at  certain 
moments,  at  intervals  between  echoes  of  the  last 
and  the  deafening  din  of  the  next  riot  of  sound, 
Dick  could  hear  fragmentary  shrieks  and  howls 
from  the  gun-deck  beneath.  Men  were  suffering 
down  there,  and  when  a  large  shell  entered  the 
bow,  and  marked  its  raking  passage  aft  by  trem 
ors  and  convulsions  in  every  plate,  the  humming 
of  human  voices  spoke  more  of  agony  than  poor 
Dick  could  comprehend  at  the  time.  Then  came 
a  blinding  flash  of  light  at  the  gun-port  of  the 
forward  turret,  and  the  ensuing  thunderous  roar 
brought  the  horror  of  war  still  closer  home  to 
him ;  a  shell  had  exploded  within,  and  the  belch 
ing  cloud  of  yellow  smoke  was  streaked  with  dark 
lines,  fragments  of  —  something. 

The  gun  was  silent  for  a  while,  and  in  the  lull 
the  ship  swung  seaward,  offering  to  Dick's  vision 
the  dark  green  background  of  the  Cuban  hills  —  a 


CIVILIZATION  301 

slight  rest  for  his  aching  eyes.  But  there  was  no 
rest  for  his  ears  nor  his  nerves ;  the  crashing  of 
shot  and  shell,  and  the  chattering  and  roaring  of 
guns  continued,  and,  in  a  fever  of  desperate  curi 
osity,  he  summoned  strength  and  rolled  on  his 
side,  groaning  with  pain,  but  more  content.  He 
could  see  the  Iowa.  She  was  storming  along  in 
her  smoke,  tongues  of  flame  piercing  the  fleecy 
envelope,  her  superstructure  a  scintillating  line  of 
sparkling  red.  The  ship  Burned  back  to  her  course 
and  soon  the  Texas  came  in  sight,  — the  ridiculed 
Texas,  "  hoodoo  "  of  the  fleet, — blazing  away  with 
her  sponson  guns  and  keeping  pace  with  the  invin 
cible  Iowa.  Then  appeared  the  three-funnelled 
Brooklyn,  the  racer,  the  happy  compromise  of 
armour,  guns,  and  coal  supply.  The  rattle  of  her 
powerful  secondary  battery  rivalled  the  sound  of 
musketry,  and  was  distinguishable,  even  at  the 
distance,  above  the  storm  of  battle.  "Wavering  in 
his  glances,  Dick  looked  for  the  New  York,  but 
she  was  not  in  sight ;  neither  was  the  torpedo  boat 
to  which  he  belonged,  but  apparently  rising  out  of 
the  sea,  between  the  Iowa  and  the  Texas,  appeared 
the  monster  Oregon,  the  battleship  which  had 
taken  him  north  from  Rio  Janeiro.  She  flamed 
with  fire  and  hid  behind  her  smoke,  then  emerged, 
blazing  ceaselessly  and  rushing  on.  Dick  watched 
her  a  few  moments  with  darkening  faculties,  noted 
the  position  of  the  second  ship  of  the  Spanish 


302  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

squadron  out  to  sea  and  of  the  third  drawing 
ahead  of  them  all,  then  fainted  from  pain  and 
thirst  and  loss  of  blood. 

Pain,  that  had  helped  deprive  him  of  conscious 
ness,  brought  it  back.  Pain  that  he  had  never 
known  before  afflicted  him  ;  he  was  writhing  on  a 
hot  deck,  suffocating  with  smoke  and  the  fumes 
of  burning  woodwork.  The  engines  had  stopped, 
and  the  only  gun-fire  to  be  heard  was  far  away, 
where  the  hunt  was  still  on.  Around  him  in  the 
smoke  were  men  stricken  like  himself,  and  worse 
—  men  who  had  crawled  up  from  the  blast  fur 
nace  buzzing  and  humming  beneath  the  hot  deck. 
Some,  groaning  and  wheezing  as  they  crawled, 
were  moving  slowly  toward  the  rail,  through 
which  a  few  succeeded  in  dropping.  Others  re 
mained  where  the  last  weakness  had  overtaken 
them.  A  momentary  clearing  of  the  smoke  showed 
to  Dick  the  after  part  of  the  ship  in  flames,  the 
foremast  gone,  and  in  the  fighting  top  on  the 
mainmast  the  body  of  a  man  leaning  over  as 
though  hailing  the  deck.  There  was  a  jarring 
vibration  in  the  hull  and  an  occasional  note  in  the 
roar  of  flame  that  sounded  like  surf  beating  on 
rocks.  The  ship  was  beached  and  deserted  by  all 
able  to  move. 

A  hail  rang  out  from  overboard :  "  On  deck, 
there,  ye  poor  divils.  Can  any  o'  yez  take  a  line  ? 
Stand  by." 


CIVILIZATION  303 

A  rope  whirled  snakelike  high  over  the  rail 
and  dropped,  but  there  was  none  to  take  it;  it 
was  withdrawn,  and  then  it  came  again  in  the 
form  of  a  running  bowline  which  settled  over  a 
stanchion.  It  was  tautened,  and  a  man  climbed 
aboard  —  a  bare-waisted,  bare-headed  man  with  a 
bearded  red  face. 

"  Oh,  Mither  o'  Mercy,  boys,  what  a  sight ! "  he 
shouted  in  mournful  tones.  "Come  up  —  come 
up,  boys.  There  be  some  alive." 

"Morrisey —  Morrisey,"  gasped  Dick.  "Here 
—  give  me  a  hand." 

Morrisey  sprang  toward  him  and  peered  into 
his  face. 

"  Dick,  be  the  powers ! "  he  shouted.  "  Bron- 
son,  below  there.  Here's  Dick,  fryin'  in  his  own 
juice.  Oh,  ye  poor  bye,  and  how  come  ye  here 
wi'  the  dagoes  ? " 

He  lifted  Dick  in  his  arms  and  turned  toward 
the  rail.  Other  men  were  swarming  up,  and  the 
leader,  a  giant  of  a  man,  took  him  from  Morrisey. 
Disdaining  the  slow  descent  by  the  rope,  he 
sprang  with  him  into  the  sea ;  for  Dick's  cloth 
ing,  dried  by  the  heat,  was  in  flames. 


CHAPTER  XLVI 

NEARLY  four  months  after  the  sailing  of  the 
Mary  Earl,  about  the  time  that  Dick  and 
Breen  joined  the  fleet,  the  following  appeared  in 
an  issue  of  the  Allville  Evening  Times  :  — 

"  A  little  light  is  shed  on  the  mysterious  disappear 
ance  of  Ensign  Breen,  United  States  navy,  by  the 
story  of  Mayor  Arthur,  who,  with  his  son  and  daughter, 
was  a  guest  of  Mr.  Breen  aboard  his  ship  on  the  after 
noon  of  the  day  on  which  he  disappeared.  It  seems 
that  the  young  ruffian  Halpin,  who  instigated  the 
riot  in  our  streets,  is,  or  was,  a  member  of  the  crew, 
and  was  given  shore  leave  on  that  afternoon.  He  ac 
companied  the  party  out  of  the  navy  yard,  and  car 
ried  Mr.  Breeii's  grip  to  the  gate.  Mr.  Arthur  observed 
that  they  had  words  at  the  gate  when  Halpin  surren 
dered  the  grip,  and  that  the  sailor  seemed  in  a  rage. 
Later,  at  the  New  York  terminal  of  the  Brooklyn  Bridge, 
Mr.  Breen  requested  the  mayor  to  take  his  grip  to  the 
Grand  Central  Station,  and  started  in  pursuit  of  Hal- 
pin  up  Park  Row.  It  is  known  that  Mr.  Breen  has 
never  called  for  his  grip,  and  as  war  is  on,  it  is  more 
than  likely  that  he  would  have  reported  for  duty  if 
alive.  The  scoundrelly  Halpin  has  not  since  been 
seen.x  What  tale  of  foul  play  and  murder  will  come 
to  light  when  he  is  caught  can  only  be  surmised." 

Miss  Bessie  Fleming  read  this  with  dilated  eyes 
304 


CIVILIZATION  305 

at  the  supper  table.  The  meal  being  over,  she 
took  the  paper  to  her  room  and  read  it  again,  then 
sat  thinking  for  a  full  quarter  of  an  hour.  She 
sat  where  her  face  was  reflected  back  to  her  from 
a  large  mirror,  and  a  passing  abstracted  glance 
showed  her  its  tense  expression.  She  arose  and 
inspected  herself  at  full  length.  Though  never 
careless  of  her  dress,  and  most  certainly  arrayed 
as  a  young  lady  might  be  in  her  own  home,  yet 
her  eye  caught  little  details  which  betrayed  the/ 
indifference  which  had  come  to  her  regarding  her 
appearance.  Her  face  was  pale  now,  very  pale, 
and  there  was  a  worn  look  in  it  —  a  slight  droop 
ing  at  the  corners  of  her  mouth  —  which,  at  her 
age,  could  easily  become  fixed.  Her  whole  ap 
pearance  indicated  pain,  incessant  and  torment 
ing. 

But  as  she  looked  a  light  came  to  her  eyes  and 
a  faint  tinge  to  her  cheeks ;  her  breath  came 
faster,  and  the  lines  about  her  mouth  hardened  a 
little,  then  sweetened  to  a  smile  —  a  bitter  smile, 
to  be  sure,  but  a  smile,  an  improvement  in  the 
pathetic  face.  She  went  to  a  closet  and  brought 
forth  gowns  and  garments,  hats,  boots,  and  belts. 
From  boxes  and  receptacles  came  gloves,  ribbons, 
and  handkerchiefs.  She  laid  out  the  exhibit  —  a 
wealth  of  splendour  which  a  woman  might  imagine, 
but  no  man  describe  —  and  stood  off  to  choose. 
An  hour  later,  equipped  for  battle,  she  went  forth, 


306  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

rang  the  bell  of  a  large  brick  house  around  the  cor 
ner,  and  sent  up  her  card  to  Miss  Mabel  Arthur. 

She  was  a  symphony  in  colour,  and  even  harmo 
nized  with  the  fittings  of  the  parlour. 

But  another  harmony  came  down  to  meet  her 

—  a  creature  fluffily  gowned  in  tulle  but  little 
darker  than  her  crown  of  coiled  hair,  with  but  two 
relieving  flecks  of  red  —  a  ribbon  at  her  throat,  a 
flower  in  her  belt  —  with  colour  in  her  lips  and 
cheeks  that  rivalled  the  red,  with  a  diamond  on 
her  finger  no  brighter  than  the  sparkle  in  her 
eyes.     The  two  poems  took  momentary  measure 
ments,  then  Mabel  advanced  with  a  smile. 

"  Why,  Bessie,"  she  exclaimed,  as  their  lips  met, 
"where  have  you  been?  It's  an  age  since  I've 
seen  you.  You  look  lovely  —  really  you  do."  She 
caressed  Bessie's  shirt  waist  —  a  fluffy  thing  of  silk 

—  and  led  her  to  the  sofa.      "  Take  your  things 
off,  dear.     It's  so  long  since  you've  called.     Give 
me  your  hat  and  your  wrap." 

"  No  —  really,  Mabel,  I  can't  stay.  I  must  re 
turn  soon.  I  didn't  tell  mother  I  was  going  out, 
you  see." 

"  Must  you  ?  "What  a  pity !  But  tell  me, 
Bessie  —  "  and  again  she  fondled  the  silk  creation 

—  "  where  did  you  get  it  ?     In  New  York  ?     It  is 
simply  beautiful." 

"No,"  answered  Bessie,  deprecatingly,  for 
Mabel's  equipment  shed  the  flavour  of  duties  paid, 


CIVILIZATION  307 

"  it  was  made  at  home.  I  trust  a  good  deal,  you 
know,  to  Anna's  taste  and  to  mother's." 

"  But  it  is  lovely,  and  your  hat,  too.  How  do 
you  manage  ? " 

Then  followed  a  twenty-minute  discussion  of 
things  feminine  which  have  no  place  in  this  story. 
At  the  end  of  it,  Bessie,  with  the  sweetest  smile 
she  could  assume,  which  hardly  hid  the  tighten 
ing  of  her  lips,  said, — 

"  By  the  way,  Mabel,  did  you  read  what  the 
paper  said  to-night  ? " 

"  Yes  —  part  of  it.     "Why  do  you  ask  ? " 

"About  Mr.  Breen's  disappearance?  Did  you 
read  that?" 

"  Oh,  yes.  They  seem  to  think  that  he  has  been 
murdered.  "Who  would  have  thought  it  of  Dick  ; 
and  we  had  been  so  interested  in  him." 

"  But,  Mabel "  —  and  Bessie  almost  gasped  it  — 
"  you  don't  think  so,  do  you  ?  You  don't  think 
that  Dick  would  kill  him?  Why,  he  couldn't. 
Dick  Halpin.  He  couldn't.  You  know  he  couldn't. 
I  will  never  believe  it." 

"  I  really  do  not  know,"  replied  Mabel,  twirling 
her  diamond,  "  what  Dick  could  or  could  not  do. 
He  seems  to  have  a  very  violent  temper.  The 
paper  calls  him  a  ruffian  and  a  scoundrel.  Ruffi 
ans  and  scoundrels  sometimes  commit  murder." 

"  And  don't  you  care  ? "  Bessie  stood  up.  "  Don't 
you  care  anything  about  it  ?  Dick  Halpin,  whom 


308  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

you  have  talked  about  for  years,  is  charged  with 
murder.  You  were  there  on  that  day  —  you  saw 
him  —  you  must  have  seen  him  —  you  must  know 
what  the  quarrel  was  about.  Why  did  he  follow 
him?  You  know,  Mabel.  "Why  did  Mr.  Breen 
follow  him  to  his  death  ? " 

Mabel  still  twirled  the  diamond  while  she 
looked  up  at  the  agitated  Bessie,  now  pacing 
about  in  short,  hurried  turns. 

"  I  am  not  concerned,  Bessie,"  she  answered 
slowly,  "  about  this  aspect  of  the  case,  because  I 
happen  to  know  that  Dick  Hal  pin  did  not  kill  Mr. 
Breen." 

"No?  he  did  not?  Then  where  is  he?  What 
has  happened  ?  Is  he  alive  ? " 

Bessie  paused  in  her  walk,  and  stood  over  Mabel 
with  eyes  wide  open,  and  hands  tightly  clenched. 
"  Tell  me,"  she  added,  and  there  was  almost  a 
threat  in  the  command. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mabel,  impassively,  "  he  is  alive 
and" —  she  pressed  her  diamond  to  her  lips —  "I 
should  think  very  happy  to  be  alive." 

"  Where,  Mabel  ?  Where  is  he  ? "  Bessie  leaned 
over  her. 

"  Which  one  do  you  mean  ? "  asked  Mabel. 
"  Both  are  alive,  and  one  is  happy  —  that  is,  if  I 
may  judge  by  the  letter  I  received  this  morning." 

"  A  letter  ?     Oh  —  yes  —  a  letter  —  to  you  — 
Bessie  stood  erect.    "  I  understand,  of  course.    He 


CIVILIZATION  309 

is  alive,  and  writes  to  you.  I  really  beg  your 
pardon  —  I  did  not  think."  She  went  to  the  mir 
ror,  and  though  her  hat  was  symmetrically  true 
in  adjustment,  she  gave  it  a  few  spasmodic  pats ; 
then  she  turned  and  advanced  toward  Mabel,  who 
had  arisen. 

"He  was  mine,  Mabel,"  said  Bessie,  as  she 
paused  in  the  centre  of  the  room.  "  Mine  —  mine 
—  he  never  told  me,  but  I  knew — I  was  to  wait 
for  him.  And  you  took  him  away.  He  left  me 
to  go  to  you.  Some  day  he  will  leave  you  to  go 
to  another,  and  then  you  will  know  —  what  —  I 
know  now."  She  reeled  a  little,  but  recovered. 
"  Good-by,  Mabel,"  she  added,  and  turned  toward 
the  door. 

Before  she  reached  it  Mabel  had  caught  her. 
She  enfolded  her  in  her  arms  and  pressed  her  lips 
to  the  pale  cheek. 

"  Bessie,  you  poor  girl,"  she  said  gently,  "  come 
back.  You  don't  understand.  He  is  nothing  to 
me  but  a  good  friend.  Come  back  and  sit  down 
and  talk.  Let's  talk  about  it,  dear.  Come  back 
to  the  sofa." 

It  was  some  minutes  before  Bessie's  sobs  would 
permit  her  to  listen,  and  then  Mabel,  with  her 
arms  about  her,  told  her  of  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Breen  mailed  at  Jupiter  Inlet.  He  and  Halpin 
had  been  taken  forcibly  to  sea  in  a  merchant 
ship,  it  said ;  they  had  become  good  friends,  and 


310  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

had  left  the  ship  at  Rio  Janeiro  just  in  time  to 
join  the  Oregon  going  north. 

"  I'll  get  the  letter  before  you  go,  Bessie,"  said 
Mabel,  "  and  we'll  read  it  together.  He  wrote  to 
me,  I  suppose,  because  he  knew  I  should  be  glad 
to  hear  from  him.  But  you  will  see,  Bessie,  just 
what  my  position  is.  Why,  he  began  the  letter 
with,  '  Dear  Miss  Arthur.'  That  is  not  lover- 
like." 

"  But  the  ring  ? "  murmured  Bessie,  her  head 
on  Mabel's  shoulder.  "  You  told  me." 

"  I  did  not.  You  told  yourself ;  I  merely  allowed 
you  to.  I  was  hateful,  I  know  —  awfully  hateful, 
but  it  was  on  account  of  Dick." 

"  Then,  Mabel,"  said  Bessie,  as  she  straightened 
up,  "  you  do  love  Dick  Halpin." 

"  I  do  not.  I  am  not  acquainted  with  him.  I 
have  had  but  two  conversations  with  him  in  my  life. 
I  love  an  ideal,  and  of  all  the  men  I  have  met  Dick 
comes  the  nearest  to  filling  it.  He  may  not  prove 
himself  —  he  may  turn  out  just  as  the  papers  de 
scribe  him,  a  rowdy  and  a  ruffian  —  I  do  not  know. 
But,  if  he  is  a  gentleman, — I  know  that  he  is 
brave  and  manly,  —  if  he  is  of  good  instincts,  hon 
est,  and  clean-minded  ;  if  he  is  of  my  class,  don't 
you  see,  I  think  —  I  do  not  know.  And  that  is 
all,  Bessie.  It  began  with  his  red  hair.  Ever 
since  I  have  been  able  to  see  I  have  worshipped 
red  hair.  I  do  not  know  why,  but  I  had  to  yield 


CIVILIZATION  311 

to  it.  Dick  was  my  ideal  boy,  and  I  held  to  him 
during  his  absence  while  his  hair  became  auburn  ; 
but  the  habit  is  fixed.  I  shall  be  dreadfully  disap 
pointed  if  he  does  not  succeed  in  life  —  and  come 
back  to  me." 

"  But  the  ring,  Mabel,"  persisted  Bessie. 

"  A  birthday  gift  from  papa,  you  goosie.  Mr. 
Breen  selected  it  and  sent  it  with  the  bill." 

"It  wasn't  kind  of  you,  Mabel.  I  should  not 
have  treated  you  so.  Why  did  you  let  me  think 
it  was  an  engagement  ring  ? " 

"Because,  as  I  said,  I  felt  utterly  hateful. 
You  had  deceived  me  all  along.  You  were  in 
communication  with  Dick  —  with  my  ideal  —  all 
the  time,  and  you  never  told  me." 

"  Why,  Mabel." 

"  You  were,  Bessie.  You  told  me  that  day  — 
that  day  before  Dick  came  home,  you  know — • 
that  you  expected  company  and  could  not  come 
over.  And  then,  when  Mr.  Breen  called  next 
day  he  said  that  he  had  been  at  your  house  first, 
and  found  Dick  there. 

"But  Dick  called  by  accident  —  I  did  not 
expect  him;  I  had  not  seen  him  since  he  went 
away,  and  hardly  knew  him.  Why,  Mabel,  how 
unjust  you  have  been !  I  did  expect  company, 
but  it  was  Mr.  Breen." 

Mabel's  eyes  opened  a  little  wider,  and  her  lips 
parted  ;  then  they  closed. 


312  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

"  But  why,  Bessie,"  she  said,  after  a  moment's 
silence,  "did  not  Mr.  Breen  stay  at  your  house 
if  he  was  expected?  An  invited  guest  does  not 
hurry  away.  And  he  told  me  nothing  about  his 
being  expected  at  your  house.  I  did  not  know 
that  he  ever  called  on  you." 

Bessie's  face  flushed  as  red  as  the  ribbon  at 
Mabel's  throat.  She  looked  down  and  around 
the  room  —  then  squarely  at  Mabel. 

"I —  I  —  do  not  know,"  she  said  at  last. 

"  Was  it,"  asked  Mabel,  gently,  "  because  he 
found  a  sailor  of  his  own  ship  there?  You 
know  the  class  distinctions  in  the  navy." 

Had  Bessie  agreed  to  this,  tranquillity  and  con 
fidence  might  have  been  restored  at  once;  but, 
hesitating  a  moment,  she  said,  "  Not  that, 
exactly." 

"  Then,  why,  Bessie,  if  Mr.  Breen  was  the 
expected  company,  did  he  go  away  ? " 

"Because,"  said  Bessie,  her  face  aflame, 
and  desperately  anxious,  possibly,  to  prove  her 
case,  "  he  came  just  as  Dick  was  going,  and  — 
and  —  just  in  time  to  —  see  —  to  see  him  kiss  me. 
And  he  wouldn't  stay.  He  —  turned  —  and  — 
went  right  away  from  me,  and  I  have  —  haven't 
se-seen  him  since." 

And  then  she  began  crying,  while  Mabel 
straightened  to  full  height  and  uttered  the  one 
word,  "What!" 


CIVILIZATION  313 

She  walked  the  full  length  of  the  room  and 
back  again. 

"  He  kissed  you,"  she  repeated  ;  then,  as  Bessie 
dried  her  eyes  and  looked,  she  turned,  without 
waiting  for  an  answer,  and  walked  again  to  the 
end  of  the  room.  Here  she  remained  for  a 
moment,  while  Bessie's  pathetic  face  took  on 
an  expression  of  demure  resignation.  Mabel 
returned. 

"Bessie,"  she  said,  while  her  fingers  worked 
nervously,  "  is  this  really  so  ?  Did  he  kiss 
you?" 

"Yes,  he  did,"  murmured  Bessie,  shamelessly. 
"He  kissed  me  —  hard."  She  would  have  been 
less  than  a  woman  had  she  been  able  to  forego 
this  one  moment  of  triumph  —  this  one  dash  of 
vengeance  and  reprisal  on  the  one  who  had  so 
mercilessly  wounded  her  —  even  at  the  cost  of 
so  shameful  an  admission. 

"  And  you  let  him  ? "  said  Mabel.  "  You  let 
him  kiss  you  ?  " 

This  brought  the  matter  nearer  home;  and 
Bessie,  as  a  properly  conducted  young  lady 
should,  arose  in  her  own  defence. 

"  I  could  not  help  it,  Mabel,"  she  said  ear 
nestly.  "I  didn't  think  —  he  was  no  longer  the 
Dick  I  knew  —  and  when  he  was  going  I  —  and 
then  —  the  outer  door  opened,  and  Mr.  Breen  saw 
it." 


314  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

Mabel  seated  herself  in  a  low  reclining  chair, 
threw  herself  back  at  full  length,  and  with  fingers 
tapping  the  arms  of  the  chair  stared  at  the  ceil 
ing  for  a  full  five  minutes,  while  Bessie  waited 
patiently.  Then  Mabel  sat  up. 

"  What  a  fool  I  am ! "  she  said  at  length,  with 
a  toss  of  the  head.  "  He  is  a  man  among  men. 
They  are  all  alike,  and  he  kisses  every  cook  or 
waitress  that  he  meets  alone." 

"  Oh,"  shuddered  Bessie,  "  I  hope  not." 

"  It  isn't  worth  while,  Bessie.  We  mustn't  let 
it  come  between  us  again.  It  is  not  my  business 
whom  he  kisses  until  —  unless  —  "  She  flushed 
slightly  —  "  After  that  I  will  take  care  of 
him." 

"  But,  Mabel,  do  you  think  "  —  and  the  question 
was  born  of  the  deepest  malice  of  which  Bessie 
was  capable  —  "  do  you  think  that  Dick  will  ever 
try?" 

Mabel  waited  a  moment  while  she  soberly 
studied  the  carpet. 

"  Women  can  always  be  sure  of  some  things, 
Bessie,"  she  said  slowly.  "  I  looked  into  his  soul 
that  day  on  the  ship  —  when  he  stood  in  line  with 
others,  waiting  to  be  counted.  He  may  never 
come  back  to  me  —  he  may  be  a  brute  and  a 
scoundrel  whom  I  would  not  tolerate,  though 
from  the  description  in  Mr.  Breen's  letter  I  should 
think  he  is  not  —  but,  Bessie,  I  saw  —  I  know  — 


CIVILIZATION  315 

that  I  am  to  him  what  he  is  to  me.  "Wait,  and  I 
will  get  that  letter." 

They  read  it  together,  with  arms  about  each 
other.  It  was,  as  Mabel  had  said,  a  letter  couched 
in  terms  of  friendship,  containing  news  of  the 
voyage  in  the  merchant  ship  and  some  wonder 
ful  praise  of  Dick  Halpin,  but  no  word  of 
Bessie. 

"  Will  you  answer  it,  Mabel  ? "  she  asked,  as  the 
letter  was  folded. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Mabel,  and  her  lips  set  firmly. 
"  I  shall  write  and  give  my  opinion  of  a  man  who 
can  treat  you  so.  I  shall  scold  him  as  he  never 
was  scolded  before." 

Bessie  rose  to  her  feet  in  all  the  dignity  of  a 
woman  sure  of  her  position. 

"Mabel,  you  must  not,"  she  declared  vehe 
mently;  "you  must  not  mention  my  name  to 
him.  I  forbid  it.  He  condemned  me  unheard, 
and  went  away.  Now  let  him  come  back  — 
when  he  is  ready."  There  were  tears  in  her 
eyes  again. 

Mabel  smiled,  and  drew  her  back  to  the  couch. 

"  Well,  dear,  I  won't,  then,"  she  said ;  "  I'll  do 
better.  I'll  tell  him  that  his  rival  is  wealthy  ; 
that  the  sailor  boy  who  comes  home  and  kisses 
his  darling  is  heir  to  a  fortune,  and  is  sure  to  come 
home  again.  Perhaps  he  will  kiss  her  again." 

"He  won't,"  stormed  Bessie.     "And  don't  you 


316  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

mention  that  kissing,  Mabel ;  don't  you  dare. 
He'll  only  think  I'm  talking  about  him,  and  —  I'm 
not  —  he  don't  deserve  —  " 

And  Mabel  promised,  and  kissed  her  herself  into 
peace  and  tranquillity  and  hope. 


CHAPTER  XLVII 

A  FEW  days  after  Bessie  casually  glanced 
over  a  back  number  of  the  Evening  Times, 
which  she  had  neglected  reading  when  issued.  It 
contained  the  account  of  the  delayed  commence 
ment  exercises  of  the  graduating  class  of  the 
High  School.  Prominent  in  the  account  was  an 
abstract  of  an  essay  written  and  read  by  Mr. 
Edward  Brown  on  "  Journalism  as  a  Profession." 
The  prominence  given  to  this  part  of  the  pro 
gramme  came  of  the  fact,  of  which  Bessie  was 
aware,  that  Ned  Brown's  father  was  the  editor  of 
the  paper.  Certain  peculiarities  of  style  induced 
her  to  hunt  for  and  re-read  the  editorial  which  had 
prompted  her  visit  to  Mabel — the  same  peculiarities 
of  style  were  apparent  in  both.  At  the  newspaper 
office,  she  searched  the  files  and  found  the  account 
of  the  riot  in  which  Dick  Halpin  was  called  a 
thief.  There  were  the  same  touches  of  phrasing 
and  punctuation  —  obviously  the  three  articles  were 
written  by  the  same  hand.  Buying  a  copy,  .she 
took  it  home,  and  with  scissors  and  mucilage  pre 
pared  an  exhibit  of  the  three  cuttings,  then 
bided  her  time. 

It  came  a  few  evenings  later  when  she  ushered 
317 


318  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

into  her  small  parlour  a  caller,  —  a  tall,  well-dressed 
young  man  with  a  budding  mustache,  and  hair 
symmetrically  divided  into  fluffy  halves.  Her 
greeting  was  formal,  almost  frigid,  but  the  young 
man's  smiling  self-assurance  suffered  no  shock 
until  he  had  turned  around  once  or  twice  and 
seated  himself  in  the  best  chair ;  then  he  noticed 
the  calm,  cold  disapproval  in  Bessie's  blue  eyes 
and  arose  to  his  feet.  His  hostess  had  remained 
standing,  fingering  a  scrap-book  on  the  table. 

"Why,  Bessie,"  he  said,  "what's  up?  Lost 
your  mother,  or — " 

"No,  Mr.  Brown,"  she  interrupted  incisively, 
"mother  is  well." 

"  But  —  why,  Bessie  —  Mr.  Brown  ?  It  used  to 
be  plain  Ned." 

"  I  have  but  lately  read  your  essay  on  '  Journal 
ism,'  Mr.  Brown"  —  she  emphasized  the  prefix  — 
"  and  feel  much  impressed.  I  could  not  presume 
to  such  familiarity  as  to  call  you  Ned  after  read 
ing  it.  Keally,  I  did  not  dream  that  you  wrote 
so  well." 

"  Is  that  so,  honest,  now  ? "  he  answered  delight 
edly.  "  Well,  now,  I'm  glad  you  liked  it.  I'm 
going  in  for  it,  you  know,  with  father." 

"  So  I  surmised.  I  cut  it  out  and  put  it  in  my 
scrap-book,  it  was  so  good,"  she  purred.  "And 
here  is  something  else  that  I'm  sure  is  yours. 
Why,  no  one  else  could  write  so  nicely." 


CIVILIZATION  319 

She  opened  the  book,  and  he  approached  her 
side,  a  little  soberly,  for  the  sarcasm  in  her  voice 
was  becoming  apparent.  She  pointed  to  a  clip 
ping —  the  one  containing  speculations  as  to 
Breen's  murder. 

"  You  wrote  that,  too,  Mr.  Brown,  did  you 
not  ? ''  demanded  Bessie. 

"  Oh  —  that,  yes,  I  wrote  it.  The  governor  lets 
me  write  an  editorial  now  and  then,  you  know. 
I  expect  before  long  to  have  full  charge  of  that 
page." 

"  And  do  you  think,"  said  Bessie,  sternly,  "  that 
Dick  Halpin,  the  boy  you  knew  at  school,  would 
murder  any  one  ?  " 

"  Why  —  why,  Bessie  —  why  not  ?  He's  a  low 
ruffian  —  a  rowdy  —  " 

"  He  is  not,"  snapped  Bessie.  "  He  is  a  gentle 
man  past  your  comprehension,  Ned  Brown.  Why 
do  you  hate  him  so  ?  Has  he  ever  harmed  you  ? 
Did  he  harm  you  that  day  he  came  home  ?  If  I 
am  rightly  informed,  you  were  the  only  one  of 
that  cowardly  band  that  escaped." 

"  He  couldn't  catch  me,"  answered  Ned,  vaguely, 
stupidly,  but  somewhat  proudly. 

"  So  I  heard.  I  heard  you  described  as  a  young 
man  who  could  not  fight  very  well,  but  could  run 
like  —  sixty." 

"  Now,  Bessie,"  protested  Ned,  "  this  isn't  fair. 
I'm  no  tough  scrapper  with  my  fists,  if  he  is  — " 


320  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

"  But  you  are  moderately  proficient  with  your 
feet,  Mr.  Brown ;  you  can  kick  a  small  boy  when 
you  have  others  to  assist  you.  Please  do  not  call 
him  names  in  my  presence.  Here  is  something 
else  that  you  wrote." 

She  showed  him  the  account  of  the  riot.  Ned 
said  nothing,  but  looked  troubled. 

"You  wrote  that  falsehood,  wilfully,  Mr. 
Brown.  You  know,  and  you  knew  then,  that 
Dick  Halpin  was  innocent  of  that  charge.  You 
knew  that  he  never  wore  the  name  of  thief  but 
one  week,  for  he  was  cleared  by  the  confession  of 
the  real  culprit." 

"  But  —  really  —  I'd  forgotten,  Bessie ;  I  really 
had  forgotten  —  " 

"You  did  not  forget ;  but  you  supposed  him  ut 
terly  friendless  in  this  town,  and  you  made  a  mis 
take.  Do  you  care  for  my  future  acquaintance  ? " 

"  Of  course,  Bessie,  of  course  I  do.  Haven't  I 
been  coming  to  see  —  " 

"  Then  you  will  rescind  in  your  father's  paper 
every  slander  against  Dick  Halpin  you  have 
uttered." 

"  How  can  I  ?  Father  is  supposed  to  edit  the 
page.  He  won't  reverse  himself  just  for  me. 
Besides,  George  Arthur  is  a  gentleman  and  an 
officer  of  the  navy.  It  won't  do  — 

"  It  will  do ;  but  you  need  not  mention  George 
Arthur.  On  his  sister's  account  alone  I  would  not 


CIVILIZATION  321 

have  you  mention  him ;  but  you  will  retract  your 
words  in  regard  to  Dick  Halpin  —  my  friend  from 
the  first,  understand  —  or  I  will  never  speak  to 
you  again." 

Bessie  moved  toward  the  door  and  turned  to 
face  him.  Ned  followed  and  passed  her,  halting 
as  he  took  his  hat  from  the  rack  in  the  hall. 

"I've  got  to  do  it,  I  suppose,  somehow,"  he 
said  painfully ;  "  but  it's  like  pulling  teeth,  and 
father—" 

She  had  turned  away  from  him. 

Ned  passed  out,  and  Bessie  collapsed  in  tears. 
She  was  not  a  natural  diplomat,  and  the  ordeal 
had  taxed  her  nerves.  But  she  said  nothing  to 
Mabel  about  a  problem  affecting  the  good  name 
of  her  brother,  even  though  their  renewed  friend 
ship  reached  a  confidence  and  an  intimacy  which  it 
had  never  known  before.  And  soon,  this  friend 
ship  was  tested  by  a  strain  that  roused  to  its  ful 
ness  all  the  latent  womanhood  of  her  immature 
nature  —  at  a  time  when  the  country  rang  with 
gladness  over  the  destruction  of  Cervera's  fleet, 
and  a  sister  alternatively  raved  and  moaned  over 
the  loss  of  a  brother.  It  was  Bessie,  the  affec 
tionate  and  dependent,  who  knew  how  to  comfort 
and  subdue  the  frantic  Mabel ;  and  perhaps  not 
the  least  of  the  anodynes  for  this  awful  grief  of 
twin  for  twin  was  her  oft-repeated  formula,  — 

"  Dick  was  saved  ;  he'll  come  back." 

Y 


322  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

Either  the  beneficent  effect  of  the  formula  or 
youth  and  good  health  sufficed  to  bring  to  Mabel, 
as  the  weeks  passed,  composure  of  mind  and  self- 
control  sufficient  for  the  small  orderings  of  her 
daily  life ;  she  received  and  read  her  own  letters. 
One,  from  Breen,  written  at  Key  West,  and  dated 
August  5,  began  with  condolences,  which  no  matter 
how  heartfelt  the  sympathy  of  friend  for  friend, 
can  only  be  expressed  in  a  few  stultified  phrases  of 
hackneyed  English ;  then  followed  more  business 
like  news,  derived  at  first  hand  from  the  wrecking 
party  that  had  raised  the  sunken  steam  launch  in 
the  Santiago  channel,  to  the  effect  that  the  tide 
had  washed  all  the  bodies  away,  and  that  the 
chances  were  against  their  being  recovered ;  then 
the  writer,  drifting  into  the  slap-dash  style  of  a 
man  writing  hurriedly  in  the  midst  of  duties,  had 
this  to  say  :  — 

"I  have  spent  an  hour  with  Dick  Halpin  at  the 
hospital  ashore  here ;  he  is  doing  well,  considering 
that  he  was  shot  full  of  holes,  half-drowned,  rammed 
by  a  big,  fast  cruiser,  and  then  nearly  roasted  alive  — 
in  the  langxiage  of  Seaman  Morrisey,  who  rescued  him 
—  Morrisey,  of  your  town,  who  kept  the  hotel  — 
know  him  ?  Morrisey  said  to  me  at  Guantanamo  that 
'  Dick  wuz  a-cookin'  all  right,  but  there  bein'  no  one 
there  to  turn  him  an'  baste  him  proper-like,  he  got 
scorched  on  one  side.'  Dick  will  pull  through  with 
out  doubt,  but  he  is,  mentally,  in  a  bad  way.  He 
thinks  that  if  he  had  asserted  himself  —  think  of  it, 


CIVILIZATION  323 

a  seaman  against  an  officer  —  that  he  might  have  pre 
vented  your  brother  from  going  into  the  harbour.  As 
a  properly  educated  and  superior-minded  graduate 
of  Annapolis  should  do,  I  took  that  conceit  out  of 
him;  but  there  remains  to  him  this  —  that  your 
brother's  death  furnished  him  with  his  opportunity  — 
which  has  resulted  in  a  type-written  letter  from  a  cer 
tain  high  official  at  Washington,  and  he  keeps  it  under 
his  pillow,  taking  it  out  to  read  occasionally,  —  and 
you  cannot  imagine  what  this  letter  means  to  a  blue 
jacket  of  the  navy,  —  but  over  it  all  is  his  accusing 
conscience,  that,  to  get  this  letter,  he  allowed  your 
brother  to  die.  In  fact,  he  did  not ;  he  would  have 
been  open  to  court-martial  and  disgrace  had  he  inter 
fered  as  he  thinks  he  should;  but  of  this  I  cannot 
wholly  convince  him ;  it  is  for  you  to  help  me  when 
you  see  him.  Your  admonition  to  come  home  an 
officer  had  a  strong  influence  on  Dick's  action  that 
morning,  and  his  dare-devil  attempt  to  run  four  bat 
teries  in  broad  daylight,  and  certain  admissions  which 
he  has  unconsciously  let  slip,  prove  to  me  —  well,  I 
am  saying  too  much.  Will  you  please  say  to  Miss 
Fleming,  when  you  see  her,  that  I  have  learned  that 
Dick  had  not  been  home  since  he  left  four  years  ago 
until  this  summer  ?  It  is  very  likely  that  Dick  and 
I  will  come  home  together,  as  the  war  will  surely  end 
soon,  and  he  is  almost  able  to  travel,  and  I,  on  detached 
duty,  can  easily  obtain  leave." 

Mabel  read  the  letter  to  Bessie,  then  said : 
"  Father  will  invite  them  here,  for  he  was  with 
George  when  he  died.  Shall  you  be  here  when 
they  come,  Bessie  ? " 


324  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

Bessie  shivered,  flushed,  and  steadied  her 
self. 

"  No,  Mabel,  he  will  bring  Dick  home,  of  course, 
and  he  will  come  to  you  first.  But  —  I  shall  be 
in  my  own  home." 


CHAPTER  XLYIII 

THREE  weeks  later  Breen  and  Dick  boarded 
an  afternoon  train  at  the  Grand  Central  Sta 
tion  in  New  York.  Both  were  in  the  undress  uni 
form  of  commissioned  naval  officers;  but,  even 
aside  from  this  change,  few  of  Dick's  old  mess 
mates  would  have  recognized  him.  His  eyes  held 
the  soft  light,  and  his  features  the  super-refinement 
which  always  comes  of  extreme  physical  suffering. 
He  was  paler  than  usual,  and  a  master  of  the 
"  dapper  art "  had  reduced  his  wavy  hair  to  fash 
ionable  length  and  contour,  and  a  sick-bed  growth 
on  his  erstwhile  smooth  face  to  a  compact  and 
becoming  mustache.  It  was  Breen  who  had 
groomed  him  —  Breen  who  had  captiously  criti 
cised  the  tailor's  work  to  the  last  wrinkle  and 
misplaced  line  of  stitching,  who  had  accompanied 
him  to  the  navy  yard  for  his  pay  and  honourable 
discharge  as  seaman  apprentice,  and  while  there 
made  much  of  him  to  officers,  old  and  young  — 
gentlemen  all,  who  cordially  welcomed  him  as  one 
of  themselves  and  candidly  envied  him  his  record. 
Then  he  had  engineered  him  to  the  station  to 
accept  Mr.  Arthur's  invitation  to  visit  his  home. 
"  It's  too  cheap,"  Dick  protested,  as  they  took 

325 


326  MASTERS   OF  MEN 

seats,  "  this  jumping  into  uniform  at  the  first 
chance." 

"  You  were  told  to  come  home  an  officer,"  said 
Breen,  firmly,  "  and  you're  going  to  do  it.  It  is 
my  part  to  see  that  you  do." 

"  But  do  you  think  —  it's  all  right  in  your  case 
—  but  in  mine,  won't  she  —  won't  Miss  Arthur  see 
through  the  sham  ?  Will  she  think  any  better  of 
me  for  this  dressing  to  a  part  ? " 

"  You  are  an  acting  ensign  of  the  United 
States  navy,"  answered  Breen,  thumping  his  knee 
with  his  fist.  "You  are  on  sick  leave  under 
orders  from  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy  to  report, 
when  well,  to  Annapolis  for  special  instruction. 
"What  more  do  you  want,  Dick  ? " 

"  You  see,"  went  on  Dick,  "  I've  always  looked 
up  to  her,  and  —  " 

"Out  with  it.  I  gathered  by  your  half-crazy 
talk  at  Key  West  that  you  loved  her." 

"  Well  —  yes,"  said  Dick,  defiantly.  "  I  never 
could  help  it,  although  I  haven't  met  her  but  twice 
in  my  life.  But  I  can  keep  my  place,  I  promise 
you,  and  when  you're  married  —  " 

"  When  who's  married  ?  " 

"  You  and  Miss  Arthur ;  when  —  " 

"  She  and  I  will  never  be  married  if  I  can  help 
it.  What  put  that  into  your  head  ?  She  never 
allowed  me  to  get  fond  of  her." 

"  Why,  aren't  you  ? "  gasped  Dick,  leaning  back 


CIVILIZATION  327 

against  the  cushion.  He  was  still  weak  from  sick 
ness  and  vulnerable  to  shock.  "  I  was  told  so  — 
Miss  Fleming  —  "  He  stopped,  not  knowing  how 
far  he  might  be  violating  a  confidence. 

"  Bessie  told  you  ?  What  game  is  she  playing, 
anyhow,"  said  Breen,  with  a  puzzled  face.  "  Well, 
no  matter.  I'll  know  before  long ;  but  tell  me, 
Dick,"  he  added  earnestly,  "is  there,  or  rather 
was  there,  anything  between  you  and  Bessie •? " 

"  Nothing  but  what  you  saw,"  said  Dick,  dimly 
beginning  to  realize  the  truth.  "  I  hadn't  seen 
her  since  leaving  school  —  we  were  chums  then  — 
and  I  called  to  get  news  of  the  gang  I  was  after  ; 
then,  as  I  was  about  to  leave,  I  obeyed  an 
impulse." 

"And  so  did  I,"  said  Breen,  musingly.  "I've 
been  a  jealous  fool.  How  did  she  take  it  —  if  it's 
a  fair  question  ?  " 

"  She  put  me  out,"  answered  Dick,  gloomily ; 
"  hated  me  —  I  was  never  to  speak  to  her  again. 
And  she  wrote  her  further  opinion  of  me  to  the 
Yermont" 

"  Did  she  ? "  laughed  Breen.  "  Bless  her  —  and 
sent  the  letter  in  my  care,  and  made  matters 
worse.  She  must  have  known  that  I'd  recognize 
her  handwriting.  I  thought  you  were  in  close 
correspondence,  and  that  it  was  a  delicate  hint  for 
me  to  step  down  and  out." 

"  No ;  I  never  got  such  a  roasting  in  my  life ; 


328  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

and  she  even  enclosed  a  clipping  from  the  paper 
calling  me  all  sorts  of  hard  names.  It  was  in 
that  letter  that  she  told  of  your  engagement  to 
Miss  Arthur.  "Why,  she  spoke  of  the  engagement 
ring  —  a  diamond." 

"  A  diamond  ?  Yes,  I  selected  one  for  her  and 
sent  it  from  New  York ;  but  her  father  paid  for 
it." 

"  It  was  easy  for  me  to  believe  it,"  said 
Dick.  "  She  had  teased  me  about  you  in  the 
house,  and  after  my  eviction  I  followed  you  to  the 
corner  and  saw  you  call  at  the  Arthurs'." 

"There's  something  funny  behind  all  this, 
Dick,"  said  Breen,  after  a  moment's  thought.  "  It 
was  Miss  Arthur  herself  who  clinched  my  suspi 
cions  concerning  you  and  Bessie.  I  understand 
now  what  ailed  you  in  the  navy  yard,  but 
thought  you  were  an  all-round  crank,  sore  at  me 
for  catching  you  kissing  your  best  girl.  Dick, 
we've  done  well.  In  spite  of  this  mutual  distrust 
and  jealousy,  we've  managed  to  become  good 
friends.  Let  it  go  at  that  for  the  present." 

"  I've  a  hazy  remembrance,  or  it  may  be  that 
I  dreamed  it,  that  you  began  something  about  this 
matter  in  that  back  room  where  we  were  drugged. 
But  I  cannot  recollect  just  what  it  was." 

"  I  can,"  said  Breen,  decidedly,  "  every  word  of 
it ;  but  there's  no  occasion  to  repeat  it  now.  "We 
are  too  close  to  the  climax.  I  wonder,"  he  added 


CIVILIZATION  329 

softly  and  slowly,  as  he  leaned  back  and  closed 
his  eyes,  "  what  my  reception  will  be.  There  are 
degrees  of  asininity  ;  where  do  I  stand  ? " 

Dick  could  not  tell  him,  and  was  satisfied  with 
silence  and  the  music  of  his  own  thoughts,  until 
the  train  reached  Allville. 

Mabel's  father,  sad-faced  but  genial,  met  them 
on  the  platform. 

"  I  received  your  telegram,"  he  said,  as  he  shook 
hands  with  Breen,  "and  hurried  over  to  meet 
you;  but  I  have  only  a  few  minutes,  —  board 
meeting,  you  see,  and  I  am  wanted,  —  and  this  is 
Mr.  Halpin,"  he  added,  offering  Dick  his  hand. 
"  I  recognize  you  as  the  sailor  who  revolution 
ized  our  town  government  —  this,  in  fact,  is  the 
business  before  the  board.  I  congratulate  you, 
young  man,  on  your  promotion.  You  were  with 
my  son  when  he  died,  I  hear "  —  the  old  gentle 
man's  voice  quavered  a  little — "and  when  we 
have  time  you  must  tell  me  how  he  died." 

"  I  can  tell  you  now,  Mr.  Arthur,"  said  Dick, 
gravely  and  earnestly;  "he  died  like  a  man  — 
a  brave  man." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  —  but  —  you  must  tell 
me  all.  Meanwhile,  both  of  you,  consider  my 
house  your  home  while  you  are  here.  Mabel  is 
expecting  you.  I  cannot  be  at  dinner,  I  fear; 
but  you  will  go  at  once  to  the  house,  will  you 
not?" 


330  MASTERS   OP   MEN 

"  Thank  you,  no,  Mr.  Arthur,"  answered  Breen. 
"  "We'll  call  in  the  evening.  We're  a  little  travel- 
stained  at  present." 

"  "Well,  I'm  off.     I  will  see  you  in  the  evening." 

They  went  to  the  Hotel  Morrisey,  still  wearing 
its  large  sign,  though  the  versatile  Morrisey  was 
replaced  by  a  stranger. 

"Did  I  tell  you,"  asked  Dick,  as  they  seated 
themselves  in  the  dining  room,  "  that  Morrisey 
and  Bronson  came  to  see  me  in  the  hospital? 
Morrisey  lost  his  license  on  account  of  the  trouble, 
but  he  still  owns  this  place.  The  plan  is  for  Bron 
son  to  take  out  the  license  when  their  time  is  out, 
and  settle  down  as  Morrisey's  partner." 

"  Good  wind-up  for  an  old  sailor,"  remarked 
Breen,  as  he  reached  for  the  bill  of  fare.  "  Hello, 
what's  the  matter  with  him  ? " 

A  young  man  had  hurriedly  entered  the  dining 
room,  but,  on  seeing  the  two  officers  at  the  table, 
had  turned,  and  as  hurriedly  bolted  from  the 
room. 

"It's  Ned  Brown,"  said  Dick,  with  a  laugh, 
"  the  only  one  of  the  crowd  that  I  missed  that 
day.  Perhaps  he  feared  his  turn  had  come." 

They  caught  a  momentary  glimpse  of  Ned 
through  the  open  door,  negotiating  with  a  news 
boy;  then  he  disappeared  from  sight,  and  the 
boy,  hat  in  hand,  entered  the  dining  room  and 
advanced  toward  them. 


CIVILIZATION  331 

"  Mr.  Brown's  compliments,  sir,  to  Mr.  Halpin," 
he  said,  and  laid  a  paper  before  them.  Then  he 
vanished,  while  Dick  glanced  through  the  paper. 

"  Things  certainly  are  coming  my  way,"  he  said 
at  last.  He  handed  the  paper  to  Breen,  with  his 
finger  marking  a  column.  "  Read  it  aloud.  I 
only  read  part."  Breen  read  the  following:  — 

"  Through  misapprehension  and  misinformation  on 
our  part,  we  have  in  these  columns  made  certain  dis 
paraging  comments  on  Richard  Halpin,  formerly  a 
native  of  Allville,  and  who,  as  most  of  our  readers  will 
remember,  returned  lately  and  served  out  some  poetic 
justice  to  certain  enemies  of  his  schooldays.  Among 
the  comments  we  made  at  the  time,  and  which  we  take 
pleasure  in  retracting,  was  one  concerning  his  honesty, 
wherein  we  erroneously  charged  him  with  being  ex 
pelled  from  school  for  stealing.  As  we  learn,  such  a 
charge  was  made,  but  we  are  aware  now  that  Mr.  Hal- 
pin  was  clearly  and  honourably  cleared  of  the  stigma 
at  the  time  it  happened.  Mr.  Halpin  has  acquitted 
himself  with  great  credit  to  himself  as  a  sailor  in  the 
navy  during  the  late  war,  having  won  his  spurs,  or 
rather  his  epaulettes,  by  cool-headed  daring  during  the 
blockade  of  Santiago.  Mr.  Halpin  is  shortly  expected 
to  visit  Allville,  where,  we  are  informed,  a  large  prop 
erty  awaits  him.  It  is  hoped  that  he  will  continue  to 
make  Allville  his  home." 

"  And  not  a  word  about  the  man  that  stopped  the 
riot  and  saved  all  their  blooming  lives,"  remarked 
Breen,  with  a  grimly  humorous  frown.  "  They'll 


332  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

make  a  hero  of  you,  Dick,  if  you  allow  it.  They'll 
give  you  a  sword  and  gold  epaulettes  and 
make  speeches  over  you ;  and  you'll  have  to  re 
spond,  and  say  how  your  heart  always  warmed  to 
your  old  home." 

"  Not  much,"  shivered  Dick.  "  Not  while  I  can 
run.  Still  it  is  good  to  read  such  things  about 
yourself  when  you've  felt  for  years  that  every  one 
thought  the  reverse  of  }'ou.  Look !  We're  holding 
a  levee  — look  at  them ! " 

A  shifting,  shuffling  crowd  of  men  and  boys 
passed  back  and  forth  before  the  door  and  win 
dows,  peeping  in  as  they  passed.  Another  crowd 
was  gathering  in  the  office,  respectfully  inspecting 
the  two  as  they  ate.  From  this  crowd  came 
a  man  through  the  door  —  a  sun-burned  man 
carrying  a  horse-whip. 

"  And  this  is  Dick,"  he  said  boisterously,  as  he 
reached  out  his  hand.  "  Ned's  lad  Dick.  Oh, 
we've  kept  track  o'  you,  lad,  out  on  the  farm.  I'm 
not  goin'  to  stay  and  disturb  you  now,  only  I've 
just  got  to  stop  and  shake  hands  and  clap  you  on 
the  back.  Bully  for  you,  Dick ;  and  say,  just  con 
sider  to  my  credit,  won't  you,  that  if  I'd  given 
you  a  job  on  my  farm,  you  wouldn't  be  here  now, 
would  you?"  He  brought  his  open  hand  down 
on  Dick's  shoulders  with  force  that  hurt,  and  was 
gone. 

"  Mr.  Bronson,"  said  Dick,  in  answer  to  Breen's 


CIVILIZATION  333 

inquiring  glance.  "First  man  I  asked  for  work. 
And  here's  Mr.  Clark."  He  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  I've  just  a  minute,  Richard,"  said  the  school 
master,  approaching  from  the  street  door ;  "  just 
a  minute  in  which  to  congratulate  you.  Mr. 
Arthur  has  just  informed  me  of  your  arrival. 
There  is  no  success  like  success,  Richard,  is  there  ? 
Really,  I  think  I  can  say  that  you  are  the  most 
successful  of  all  my  pupils.  Have  you  brought 
your  body-guard  this  time  ? " 

"No,  Mr.  Clark,"  answered  Dick,  respectfully. 
"Let  me  introduce  Mr.  Breen  of  the  navy  —  my 
old  teacher,  Breen.  I  hope  you  don't  think  that 
I've  declared  endless  war,  sir." 

"  I  should  hope  not,"  said  the  principal  with  a 
forgiving  smile.  "  For  in  that  case  we  will  need 
a  larger  police  force  than  we  are  getting.  You 
will  remain  with  us  awhile  ?  Yes  ?  "Well,  I  will 
see  you  again.  By  the  way,  at  Mr.  Arthur's 
suggestion,  a  few  of  us  have  considered  —  er  —  a 
little  banquet  —  a  reception,  you  know.  Naval 
heroes  are  scarce  with  us  and  we  must  make  the 
most  of  them." 

He  hurried  away  before  Dick  could  reply,  and 
Breen  sank  back  in  a  fit  of  laughter. 

"  Told  you  so,"  he  sang,  as  he  looked  into 
Dick's  worried  face. 

"  I'll  clear  out  first,"  said  Dick,  savagely,  "  and 
I  can't  stand  much  more  of  this,  either,"  he 


334  MASTERS   OF   MEN 

looked  at  the  still  growing  crowd  without, 
"Let's  bolt  this  grub  and  get  out  of  sight." 

They  finished  the  meal  and  sought  the  parlour, 
from  which,  two  hours  later,  they  emerged,  to  en 
ter  a  cab,  neither  being  willing  to  head  a  parade 
through  the  streets,  and  in  less  than  ten  minutes 
stood  in  Mabel  Arthur's  parlour,  —  Breen  with  a 
joke  and  a  smile  for  everything,  Dick,  sober  and 
somewhat  ill  at  ease.  He  had  fought  his  way  to 
this  new  world,  but  it  was  yet  strange  to  him. 

An  inner  door  opened,  and  Mabel  appeared, 
gowned  in  black,  but  with  colour  in  her  cheeks, 
and  the  beauty  in  her  face  unmarred  by  the  sor 
row  in  her  eyes.  With  the  old  swift  glance  at 
both,  she  advanced,  smiling  slightly  to  Breen, 
but  paying  no  attention  at  all  to  Dick. 

"I  am  glad  you've  come  at  last,"  she  said,  in 
the  full,  musical  tones  which  Dick  could  only 
remember  in  his  dreams.  "Have  you  seen 
Bessie  ? " 

"  Not  yet,  Miss  Arthur,"  laughed  Breen,  as  he 
took  her  extended  hand. 

"  I  was  in  duty  bound  to  bring  him  here,  you 
know,  before  doing  anything  else.  I  believe  that 
you  have  never  been  formally  introduced "  —  he 
waved  his  hand  toward  Dick  —  "my  friend, 
Ensign  Halpin,  of  the  navy  —  he  has  come  home 
an  officer  and  —  " 

"He    has    done    well;    and    you  —  have    not. 


CIVILIZATION  335 

Take  your  cap  and  go  to  Bessie.  At  once"  — 
she  spoke  imperiously,  though  still  smiling.  "  Do 
not  come  back  without  her." 

"  But  won't  you  please  acknowledge  the  intro 
duction,"  protested  Breen ;  "  can't  I  see  you  shake 
hands  with  him  ?  My  friend,  you  know." 

"  I  will  take  care  of  him.     Go ! " 

She  resolutely  pointed  to  the  door. 

"All  right,"  said  Breen,  laughingly  backing 
away.  "  Dick,  take  warning.  I'm  put  out.  I 
know  all  about  it  now." 

He  disappeared  through  the  door,  and  the  girl 
turned  toward  Dick. 

"  He  has  almost  broken  her  heart,"  she  said. 
"A  man  should  not  do  that." 

"I  knew,"  he  answered,  slightly  inclining  his 
head. 

She  slowly  approached  him,  her  lips  trembling 
as  though  she  were  about  to  speak.  Almost 
involuntarily  he  advanced  to  meet  her.  Gray 
eyes  looked  into  black  —  black  into  gray.  Deep 
spoke  unto  deep ;  and  Mabel  and  Dick,  in  this, 
the  third  meeting  of  their  lives,  drew  closer  and 
closer  together;  then,  with  his  arms  about  her 
waist,  their  lips  met. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

A  A      000251865    2 


